


Broken Remnants

by nachtmaredoll



Series: An Expression of the Heart [7]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020), Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children Complete
Genre: Advent Children Spoilers (Compilation of Final Fantasy VII), Aerith Knows Everything, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Attempted Murder, Bad Coping Skills, Crisis Core (Compilation of FFVII) Spoilers, Crush, Crush at First Sight, Death, Depression, Dirge of Cerberus (Compilation of FFVII) Spoilers, Doomed Crush, Doomed Relationship, Fighting, Final Fantasy VII Remake Spoilers, Final Fantasy VII Spoilers, Flashback/Memory, Honeybee Boys & Honeybee Girls, Honeybee Inn (Compilation of FFVII), Implied Child Abuse, Minor Character Death, Multi, Murder - Defense, Pining, Rating has changed, Spoilers - Crisis Core Ending (alluded to), Time Travel Fix-It, multiple POVs, self named minor side characters, this (crush) won’t end well
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:15:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 50,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28368261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nachtmaredoll/pseuds/nachtmaredoll
Summary: Cloud wakes up, once again, back in his childhood home with no guiding voice giving him answers but with the distinct knowledge that something must have gone wrong for this to have happened. He’ll figure it out, he always does.
Relationships: Andrea Rhodea & Cloud Strife, Andrea Rhodea & Jules Rhodea (Compilation of FFVII), Andrea Rhodea/Cloud Strife, Biggs & Cloud Strife, Biggs & Reno (Compilation of FFVII), Biggs/Reno (Compilation of FFVII), Cloud Strife & Roche, Jules Rhodea & Cloud Strife, Roche & Jules Rhodea (Compilation of FFVII), Roche/Jules Rhodea (Compilation of FFVII)
Series: An Expression of the Heart [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2065266
Comments: 106
Kudos: 40





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I sat down to write pt 5, chap 6 of Expression of the Heart when I realized I’d backed myself into a corner that I couldn’t get out of. This realization came with randomly remembering some other plots and points in the full compilation (or the parts I have full or mostly full knowledge of), and there was no easy fix within what was already written. Nor did I wish to undo all that already was.
> 
> After consulting two friends (neither of which are within this fandom, but both write and support me through writing anything and everything), this was the course of action chosen in which to fix my own mess and to once again write this. 
> 
> My apologies for the mess, and I sincerely hope you all stay with me. I’ve appreciated you all so very much, more than I can adequately put into words.
> 
> —  
> My tumblr now has posts for this fic (bts, reference pictures, other things, idk/etc): https://nachtmaredoll.tumblr.com/  
> —
> 
> NOTICE: I now have a discord server up and running, if you would like to join please copy/paste this link: https://discord.gg/QP59rcVNA5  
> \- note: DM me your fandom (options: FF7, P5 or RGG | Yakuza) or you will be kicked when you disconnect.  
> \- note 2: This server has three separate fandoms locked (you must apply), a multi fandom HQ (you must apply to a fandom), as well as a general chat/streaming HQ. This is a safe space for ALL that join, without multiple servers needed. You may lurk or you can be active.

Something was deeply, undeniably _wrong_. His last memory was of laying down on the repurposed truck seats that served as a makeshift couch in Roche’s garage, and yet now he was _once again_ waking up in his childhood bedroom. He felt, not only _confusion_ , but also sheer _terror_ at the implications and possibilities to just why this had occurred. He hadn’t felt right since waking from his coma, and he’d felt like he was drifting away from everyone. But it hadn’t taken root until he’d relaxed with Roche and allowed himself to slip off to sleep.

He wasn’t sure what had gone wrong, but he knew something had to have occurred for him to have once again slipped into the Lifestream and back here. It was impossible for him to truly ever know, but if he really had to guess, he suspected it had something to do with Sephiroth. The man had lasted so much longer than ever before, and yet… Cloud had felt the deep depression rolling off the older man in near physical waves whenever they shared the same space. Something had been missed, something he possibly hadn’t known about or simply forgot. There was truly no way to know now. 

Hopefully he would be able to put things to rights this time. Goddess allowing. 


	2. Preparing to Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud thinks over his past, his present, what he’s learned and what he needs to do to move forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cloud won’t stay home long, nor will he play the innocent game. He has to keep moving.

Life isn’t something one can pick or choose, or those few that are actually _mortal_ cannot, or… that is what he had once believed. He’d once believed a great many things, but none really felt adequate to help him at right this second. It would take every single lesson that he’d ever learned before to find the courage he would need to tackle this newest endeavor being asked of him by the Goddess and Gaia. There were quotes of _Loveless_ rattling in his brain mixed with Andrea’s whispered words of wisdom, paired with Vincent and Tifa’s gentle guidance urging him forward. Zack and Aerith’s presence he could feel at his back, and so much more. Words, lessons, sensations and feelings he’d had soaked and drilled into the deepest depths of his soul through _four_ lifetimes now. He could even hear Roche’s terrible motorcycle and racing metaphors helping him prepare for this latest insane endeavor that he was about to face. It wasn’t much, and yet, it was all too much. There was nothing keeping him within the walls of his childhood home, nor even within the confines of the small town.

His mother was nothing but a fever dream of hazy impressions at this point. Yes, she was _real_ but he was no longer that innocent child with too much of a temper. He had possibly made a serious mistake by pretending to still be that child in his last run. Not that he would _ever_ regret getting to know Avaline, Gabrielle, Artemis or Syd. Every moment spent with Jules in his gym had helped him learn how to properly train and care for himself. Enhanced or not, he now knew what was needed in order to build up his muscles and his mind. Andrea’s cologne stuck in his head, the echoes of his touch rippled over his skin, and the man’s eyes were ever present within his mind. It had been too short a time with the dancer, but Cloud had learnt so very much.

The feeling of being restless aggravated his nerves, however, and he had to fight with himself to _stay put_ while he prepared himself to leave Nibelheim. He truly wished to go up the mountain side to the reactor holding Jenova’s corpse and to disconnect the pods, all the mako pumps and… whatever else was possibly up there… but he didn’t actually know _how_ to do any of those things. He also was not enhanced. Yes, that meant he was stronger mentally to combat her mind control and possession—as he held none of her cells so she simply _couldn’t—_ but he also wasn’t anywhere near strong enough to physically deal damage to the things within the reactor.

So, instead he had taken to practicing his sewing in repairing his clothing, making a few disguises and overall making those first steps needed in order to _leave._ In a way, he supposed he would be running away from home, but it didn’t truly feel like it.

Besides, for some reason, the Goddess had sent him back further than he’d initially assumed upon first waking up. He wasn’t fourteen going on fifteen, he was _twelve_. Had just passed his birthday actually; which meant that there was not yet a “cease conflict” between Shinra and Wutai. In essence, he had extra time to do… well, to do _something._ Not that he actually knew what that would possibly be. In a way, he could guess it had something to do with Genesis and Angeal, but all he really had of them were brief moments. He’d heard a _lot_ of _Loveless_ recitations, but nothing that had granted him further insight into the two Firsts.

He also supposed, in a way, that perhaps their loss had been too much on Sephiroth and the Silver General had finally and simply succumbed to that listless depression Cloud had seen in the man’s eyes. He’d meant to speak with the General, but Cloud had not actually been able to with the business of his week or in having fallen asleep at Roche’s and waking up back here. It was all conjecture and guilt on his part.

There was nothing he could do about that lifetime in _this_ one, however, and so he must keep on keeping on.

He was almost ready to leave this place, with only one trip he needed to focus on before he actually said goodbye to this little town built on blood and fire: 

He _had_ to wake up Vincent. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come hell or high water, Vincent will wake his sin-drenched ass up and get the fuck out of that damned coffin.


	3. Paint It Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud sits and thinks over what to do, things that have been and thinks that have yet come to pass, as he sits next to Vincent’s coffin and hopes for the man to wake up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter title is completely inspired by the song of the same name; there are three versions that I enjoy listening to, but the one that helped me write this chapter was the one by Ciara from the movie The Last Witch Hunter.

This marked his last time—hopefully—of walking down into the basement of Shinra Manor in order to wake up Vincent from his slumber. He’d allowed the man to stay in the last lifetime, but he would not be doing such a thing again. Mostly because Cloud could really use the ex-Turk’s help, and also because he refused to allow the man to suffer any further in this wretched prison. Besides, Cloud fully intended on burning this place down and didn’t want to harm Vincent in the process. 

* * *

He sat on the floor of the crypt, softly listening to the faint breathing coming from the verifiable vampire, as he softly read through Hojo’s false journals. He’d introduced himself to the immortal Turk, then he’d begun to pull a few of the lies down from their shelves to tell Vincent of Hojo’s further sins. He read old and new magazine and newspaper reports involving Sephiroth and the Wutai War, and he spoke softly of his own childhood—the parts he could remember at least. He had heard no signs of acknowledgement to his presence or words other than a shifting of Vincent’s breathing patterns, and yet he continued to visit the man. He told the other of his plans to leave the town, and to travel, and spoke of his preparations in the hope that Vincent would stir to correct him or just get up out of the coffin.

He knew better now—than the first time he and his friends woke the man—to not startle or force him into taking action, but Cloud was still severely tempted to force the man up and out of the coffin all the same. He knew the guilt, the pain, the PTSD from the experiments and his own broken heart but he also knew how hiding wasn’t going to repent. He’d learnt such lessons a very long time ago—after Marlene had clung to Vincent’s side after Cloud had run away during Geostigma. It had taken the girl the last few years of that lifetime for Cloud to fully win her trust back.

So, with those lessons in mind, Cloud sat on the floor of the crypt with Vincent’s coffin lid slid back just enough to hear the other’s breathing clearly, and his back to the varnished sarcophagus as he read the latest report from the frontlines. He wanted to tease and make fun of some of the phrases and slogans used by different journalists, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Even the most ridiculous claim of the Shinra propaganda rags held brutal realities of blatant discrimination and his protective rage over Yuffie kept wanting to boil up.

The little ninja princess hadn’t been with them in the last lifetime, and Cloud had found himself missing her. He’d _forgotten_ her last time. It was… his own form of shameful sin, to have forgotten the hyperactive girl. Yes, she could be slightly annoying but she was also very smart, skilled and crafty. Turk material even. Something Tseng had asked of her after the incident with Kadaj, Yazoo and Loz—but Yuffie had declined his request and had chosen her homeland. He remembers trying to convince the girl to consider it—it was the same night that he’d had that heart-to-heart with Reno over Zack’s death.

Shortly after, however, Vincent’s past had come back to haunt them all and the gunslinger had shifted into his own leading role to deal with Deepground. From what Cloud understood, they were partially Project S _and_ Project G. Another batch of broken souls created in labs and consumed by the instability by degrading cells. He wasn’t even sure of everything that had happened, but Yuffie had kept close to Vincent in case he needed it.

Sitting here now, realizing how much he’d missed—or at worst _ignored_ —as he’d allowed himself to be distracted by Andrea Rhodea, left something bitter in his heart. He still didn’t regret the time spent following after the man, but he’d missed things. It was yet another lesson learnt. A lesson that actually helped him understand Vincent just that small but more, and why he kept coming down here and talking to the man.

Reports, lies, current events, his own life, date and time, leaving on a light—all things he could grant Vincent in the here and _now._ At least, until he finally was finished with his preparations to leave home. 

He wasn’t going to meet Tifa on the water tower; wasn’t going to make a promise he couldn’t keep, nor allow her crush to continue to grow. Rude loved her—or had once before—and his own attention flipped between the draw of a wild race and a dance. Roche was a mystery he couldn’t explain in any sense of reason to his curiosity. He had a similar draw to Reno once; like a moth to a wild and bright flame. However, he _had_ kissed Reno before, but could not see himself doing such a thing with Roche. There _was_ that deep, _itching_ need to protect the younger man that clawed at his insides but it wasn’t truly more than that. Not in the same way that Cloud itched to get within Andrea’s space, to be the focus of the older man’s attention and try out just exactly _what_ was between them. They’d briefly discussed it, how each was drawn to the other—in ways no other had ever truly captured their attention—but that lifetime had ended before Cloud and Andrea could begin figuring it out.

Besides, he was so terribly young now. Romantic relationships or sensations were currently null and void; besides, they weren’t anywhere near the top of his priorities.

“I think you brood louder than I do.” Cloud blinked and startled as he sat his head up from resting back against Vincent’s coffin and blinked into the dark red against the wall across from him. Vincent was up and out of his coffin, with the cowl of his blood red cape up just past his nose, his long hair hanging about his shoulders and his arms crossed over his chest. Deep and dark red eyes lightly glowed, and Cloud found himself silently locked within the man’s gaze. “What are you after?”

There were a lot of answers that he could possibly give to that question, but truly, all Cloud could really think of as an offer to the ex-Turk—and vessel of Chaos—was simply one word:

“Freedom.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Vincent, do you want to seek your own freedom?
> 
> -**-
> 
> Also, side note: I have probably shipped Cloud with almost every one of the main hero (anti-hero’s in the Turks—and villain in Sephiroth’s—cases) at least *once* in the twenty or so years that I’ve played this compilation of games, so prepare for either that in discussion or active format (depending on my brain and where things flow).  
> Note 2: the above ^^ is why I’m not slapping a pairing on this just yet; side pairings will probably be tagged as we reach them, but I’m not entirely sure where Cloud will end up.


	4. Panic Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’s a pretty boy, that’s all his stepfather sees when he looks at him; but that’s not all that he is—as the bastard is about to discover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW/CW: Lightly shown and discussed child abuse. Implied neglect, and implied death; also implications of attempted sex trafficking and forced prostitution.
> 
> Please read safely. I don’t want to hurt or trigger anyone. 
> 
> P.S.: I wrote five versions of chapter four only for this one to be the one that clicks best in my brain. It is squirmy but does have a purpose.

_“Work for it. Or I kick you out.”_ The words echoed in his mind, rattling around in his possibly concussed brain as he tried to wake up and register exactly how he’d shifted from the bed and onto the floor. His stepfather was an utmost bastard, an office worker by day and a worthless alcoholic by night that despised him and his brother—especially him—and insisted that he _earn their keep._ He was barely fifteen, with his brother being a mere two years younger than him, and yet their glorious bastard of a stepfather insisted they pay room and board for the _continued privilege_ of living in the man’s home. 

He was honestly growing sick of it. His patience was becoming ever thinner as time continued to pass, and he began to formulate a way to improve his and his brother’s way of life. He’d spent time stealing money from their mother and stepfather, he’d worked hard at his job, took on side jobs, picked up favors and bounties, and now it looked closer to the time of their grand escape. His stepfather had done much to him—and their mother—before, but this was the first time he’d ever hit his face and caused him to _bleed._ Perhaps it was the sight of his own blood dripping down his temple and splattering onto the cold wood flooring, but he suddenly felt at the very end of his patience. 

_“Wake up!”_ His head snapped up as the sounds of startled yelling came from his brother’s room followed by the distinctive sound of skin hitting skin as his brother cried out and yelled his name. _“You’ll both bring in money. Pretty enough.”_

It was the _middle of the night_ , what the bastard was implying was—

 _So_ many people thought he was just a pretty boy; very few ever saw the true danger rippling behind his grey eyes… but his stepfather was _about to._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone thinks they know who this is, I’d like to hear your guesses. 
> 
> This hurt to write. And introduces some alterations to this lifetime that Cloud won’t really expect. With that said, small moments like this will take place throughout—if there are larger moments that don’t fit smoothly, they will probably be outtakes.


	5. Last Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud has been in Midgar for some time now, and he’s not let himself be idle, though there are some worries that rattle around in his brain. Though the worries settle to background noise as he makes a discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is slightly winding and shifting as Cloud’s thoughts wander, but end on a bit of a funny note when he has a—rather overdue—epiphany.

A constant in Cloud’s life was apparently the Stargazer Heights apartments and Marle, both of which he’d been happy to see upon arriving in the Sector 7 Undercity, even if it was extremely bittersweet. _Bittersweet_ ; a term that seemed to apply to so much of his life. He was once again on his own, in the same rented room as before, and he _preferred_ it that way. It granted him anonymity and allowed him the space and time needed to order his thoughts. He was far too young to join Shinra’s infantry with the goal of joining SOLDIER, he was actually in Midgar _before_ Zack would get here and the three Firsts were still on the frontlines in Wutai. It left him with free time. It wasn’t spent absently, however, as he was no longer playing with the innocent child facade as he had last lifetime. Instead, he spent his time running around for the neighborhood watch, working for Wymer and running errands throughout the Undercity. Not that Wymer, Marle or Johnny’s Dad ever let him near Wall Market or on the other side of the city into the lower sectors—they feared him going so far.

So he worked his workouts and exercise around the lower sectors, as well as above the Plate in a concentrated effort to find others that he’d once known. In the four months since he’d been in Midgar, he’d met a good little handful of previous friends and acquaintances. Chocobo Sam still ran his business, word spoke of Madame M’s existence as well, and he’d managed to meet Jessie up in Sector 8 above the Plate while on a delivery errand to a few shops, and after that, he had found a young Leslie and Merle—whom he assumed to be the missing fiancé that Leslie had told them of.  He _had_ contemplated seeking out the Church, or working around a natural way to meet Aerith once again, but in the end he’d decided not to for the same reasons he’d avoided Tifa: there were men that loved them while he never could—not romantically at least. It wasn’t that he didn’t love Tifa, Aerith, Jessie or Yuffie, because he did, but it was only ever platonic or broken and unclear. Things he’d thought he _must_ feel, or in Aerith’s case: a holdover from Zack’s legacy. Meeting Jessie _hadn’t_ been planned, but she was still a few years older than him and thankfully didn’t think of him as anything but a kid brother.

For all those familiar faces, and his passionate efforts to actually _befriend_ them, he was still missing a few. Zack was still in Gongaga, his looking hadn’t found the older teen’s fellow SOLDIER friend Kunsel yet, and he had yet to find traces of Roche _or_ the Rhodea brothers. Kunsel had supported Zack through thick and thin, so Cloud wasn’t terribly worried, as he had a very strong feeling that somehow the two would appear as a _pair_ , and he had the feeling Roche was never some sweet kid, so he didn’t allow himself to _overly_ worry about him either… but the missing Rhodea siblings left him feeling more than just a _little_ anxious. His travels around the border of Wall Market resulted in no word of the two men or their respective businesses.

To distract himself from the worry, Cloud routinely traveled through the Plate and the Undercity mapping out the areas of each sector, making note of the people and businesses, and trying to avoid unwanted attention while trying to investigate for information on Shinra. Vincent would sometimes visit, and would teach him marksmanship, hand-to-hand or other Turk skills. Of the three lessons, it was the Turk skills that left him the most off-balance afterwards. He _adored_ Vincent, and the man was the _best_ gunslinger Cloud had ever had the pleasure of meeting, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of _wrongness_ that it wasn’t Reno or Rude teaching him Turk things. Somewhere in his mind, Vincent was _Avalanche_ instead of _Turk_ and it made his brain rattle and itch when the red in his periphery wasn’t Reno brand.

It was after one of the theoretical lessons that Cloud had finally snapped at little at himself in annoyance and decided to go looking for _his_ Turk. It was only one lifetime that he had truly gotten close to Reno, and his last lifetime involved a deep jealousy that had settled into him when he’d seen the redhead with Andrea—he still wasn’t _quite_ sure which side he was itchy over—but Reno was still his favorite of the Turks. He had never grown close to Elena, Tseng was always distant with everyone _but_ his fellow Turks, Rufus was technically their boss, and Rude was so quiet that Cloud couldn’t understand the tall man; Tifa spoke fluent Rude, however. Reno, meanwhile, was hyper but intriguing. Yuffie didn’t see the draw to the redhead, but they were far too alike to ever do much more than prank each other and bicker constantly. Cloud might be able to get along better with Vincent’s brand of quiet than Rude’s, but Reno had his own moments and it was the redhead Cloud relaxed around first and foremost.

 _Actually_ … he might be finally noticing a pattern with the men he befriended and grew fond or protective over: loud, _hyper_ , a bit _weird_ , more-often-than-not _wild_ , self-confident and on some sliding scale of _flamboyant_.

Oh by the Goddess… he had a _type._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehe... so I’m kinda laughing at myself here, as I sat down to think of my reasonings for these pairings and found my own psychological reasons and arguments for my longest (and newest) standing Cloud pairings. You may giggle at this realization, I am. 🙃😔
> 
> Side note: this isn’t my type irl, just the clicking of reasons for my Cloud pairings (Sephiroth is a different set of reasons entirely—and yes that is my OG ship. CC made it worse.)


	6. A Familiar Laugh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It always seems to be when Cloud stops looking for things is when he finds them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was fun and sweet to write.

It took Cloud a full  _ month _ of looking for Reno—after deciding that he truly wanted to do such a thing—for him to  _ finally  _ find the older man. It had happened by sheer miraculous  _ chance _ one day when Jessie had invited him, Biggs and Wedge above-plate to her parents’ house—he was routinely drug everywhere as the youngest neighborhood merc—for a Midgar Special and after the filling lunch, Cloud had just ended up…  _ drifting _ away from them. Said his thank yous, smiled up at Mr. and Mrs. Raspberry, and then promised the three older teens that he would return home to Marle before nightfall and just began to wander from the Shinra employee residences and back towards the Sector 8 Entertainment District.

He’d wandered around the main square for a few, doing a bit of clean up work due to tourists making a mess, then he’d volunteered to help the new costume apprentice working on  _ Loveless _ to fix her backstitch, and had just ceased running his last delivery errand from a really amazing Wutai restaurant up to Shinra—he suspected for Tseng’s lunch since all notes were written in Wutain—before returning back to the center fountain and his favorite café with the mind to buy a snack and a smoothie, when the sound of a  _ very  _ familiar laugh ripped through the air.

At the fountain, leaning in various places around it and sitting on the far outer shell, were the three Firsts along with an amused Rude—you had to know where to look—and a laughing Reno as Commander Hewley sat adjusting his Buster Sword while Commander Rhapsodos stood atop the fountain wall quoting  _ Loveless _ and Sephiroth sat beside Commander Hewley, glaring up at Reno with a tinge of pink to his face and desperately trying not to be amused.

It wasn’t exactly how he’d pictured running into the three men—teenagers?—nor into Reno or Rude, but it worked. It also served to ease a bit of extra worry that had seeped into him as his information gathering had still left him with nothing concerning the Rhodea brothers or Roche, for if they were gone it would sadden him, but he would live… not having Reno or Rude exist however… was too much stress on his psyche. He often grew annoyed and exasperated with them, with _all_ of the Turks, but that didn’t mean his heart hadn’t ricocheted when Yazoo and Loz had bested the two men—or when they all saw Rufus fall off the building and Yuffie’s scream had echoed louder than the Highwind’s engines in fear of him dying. Advent Day had ripped those last lines between Avalanche and Shinra/ex-Turk away as they’d all panicked and mourned. Marlene and Denzel had done a _lot_ of the work, pulling the Turks and Rufus into their makeshift mess of a family, but _still._ He could still clearly remember the rage he’d felt when they all thought Tseng and Elena were gone—a voice that sounded like Zack’s had _screamed_. 

Shaking his head, Cloud moved and walked the rest of the way into the café and bought a few extra things for the five men outside, before walking back out with the bag of food and the two drink carriers. It didn’t take more than a few cursory glances over the men to tell they hadn’t actually gone near med bay or into the Shinra building yet, as they all looked a little worse for wear, tired and each sported some light bruising and paleness. Carrying over the larger box full of hot sandwiches, along with the large drink carrier, he carefully walked over—avoiding Reno’s wild gesturing as he talked—and caught Commander Hewley’s attention first.

“Sir?” It was startling, the way Rude and Reno jumped, Genesis stopped talking and the odd way Sephiroth shifted to hide, but he just put on his best soft smile—an imitation of Tifa’s really—and held out the box and carrier. “I apologize for prying, but none of you look like you’ve returned to HQ, and I thought you could use a pick-me-up.”

He watched the five men study him, waited patiently as Rude took the box from him, checking seals and then congratulated himself when managed to stay steady as Reno stepped into his place and checked the smoothies. They were all green tea frappes—technically—but the people at the shop tended to refer to them as smoothies and he’d just stopped arguing with them over it. There were other fights, and besides, the café owner had him on a standing employment and more importantly: he got free food from them. As he stood still, waiting patiently as Reno sipped at a cup, he took in the older man—and how much older  _ was  _ Reno  _ anyways?! _ Reno looked younger than Cloud had ever seen him, with a bit of baby fat still in his features, his hair wasn’t quite as long as he was used to seeing in, his muscles were only lacking in a few places and his face tattoos were already firmly in place at the corners of his eyes.

“You aren’t a city slicker. Nor are you a Midgar native… or a fan.” Reno’s voice was quiet, and would’ve been intimidating if Cloud hadn’t previously heard it throughout three other lifetimes with varying degrees of annoyance, hatred, anger, self loathing, depression, pain and pleasure—but he could understand anyone else fearing the wild Turk. He had too, in the first lifetime when they were enemies, and in the second when Reno was able to beat him in a fight, but remembering everything now gave him an immunity for the fear.

“I’m not a native to Midgar, no. Been here long enough to be a regular everywhere though, and no I’m not a city slicker, nor am I a fan.” He kept his voice steady, his slightly cold and matter-of-fact tone aiding in his calm answers and assurances. He wasn’t even lying, and he was being sincere.

“Alright.” Rude finally exhaled and snapped the seal on the box before taking one of the sandwiches and handing the box off to the three SOLDIERS. He stepped back slightly as Reno passed out drinks, and then smiled softly as he registered that the two Turks were the security detail for the three commanders—was Sephiroth a general yet?—and nodded to himself at the release of worry from his shoulders.

He was almost back to his table across the square when the soft thank you from Commander Hewley drifted to him, and he allowed another smile to grace his lips as he turned back to them and waved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, in the original game’s canon, Reno is 28 when Cloud is 21 and I’m keeping that age gap here. That means Cloud is 12 while Reno is 19. I’m going to say that Rude is 20/21, along with Sephiroth at 22, with Angeal and Genesis at 20 and 19 respectively. Genesis is the baby.  
> -*-  
> Also, side note: Genesis is modeled off of Gackt and will forever remain my favorite of him & Angeal.  
> P.S.: It’s currently December (unless my math is off); so Cloud ran into his oldest crush in time for the Winter Solstice.


	7. Winter Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’s survived a lot, and somehow has managed to escape with his life and is granted freedom in the form of the Turks and Midgar. It’s still unsteady, but he’ll get there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW/CW: Mentions and discussions of death of a minor character (off screen), as well as past discussions of child abuse.  
> —
> 
> This was sweet to write, as it is a point of hope and involved more than just a few sweet moments.

Their first Winter Solstice, free of their past life, led them to the towering “floating city” of Midgar, far away from Junon and yet ever closer to a towering inferno that did nothing but remind him further of his former prison. It had been four months since he’d snapped and killed their stepfather, and in those four months his wretched mother had chosen death over restarting with her sons, leaving his brother on his own bouncing between the house that was somehow in _his_ name, and a few foster and child care facilities while he had sat in a cell of the local PSD and a juvenile hall. Murder on his hands, self-defense on his rap sheet, and now thankfully it was to be sealed with his adolescence and no one aside from those intimately involved would ever know what had happened.

On one hand, being in Midgar granted them freedom; on the other, they were relegated to the slums of the Undercity. He hid how much money he actually had, paranoid and more than aware of the gangs and crime present in all big cities, and so he was careful. They’d actually been picked up in Junon by three of the Turks—a loud redhead, a silent bald man and a tiny red headed girl—and had traveled to Midgar in a company helicopter. The redhead girl kept trying to coax him into a discussion until the loudmouth had finally told her to leave off. Nothing was meant by it, and he could tell she wasn’t flirting, but it was too much pressure on his frazzled nerves. To his surprise, however, his younger brother was actually talking up a storm as the quiet one of the three explained how the helicopter worked.

He’d always expected his little brother may share his predilections, but watching him with the older man confirmed it. He could see the way his brother’s eyes lit up as the man fought not to smile, and at the shocked noise made from the girl when the sunglasses were handed over, he felt himself melt and relax. Whatever his feelings concerning Shinra, and rumors surrounding the Turks, these three weren’t so bad. 

* * *

“My legs are jelly!” He hummed and fought back a smile at his brother’s whine as they touched down on the helipad of Shinra tower. Rolling his eyes, he hummed and looked back over his shoulder where the girl was talking to a Wutain man in a black suit, curious as she gestured towards his little brother standing next to the quiet man—now wearing a new pair of sunglasses—as the Turk fixed his brother’s wild and tangled curls for him. 

“Cute kid.” He hummed and turned back to the loudmouth, noticing the tattoos at his eyes, and lightly nodded. “You two have been through a lot. We know a place where you’ll be looked after. Don’t worry.” 

“Hm… thank you, I suppose.” He hummed as he pulled out one of the bags lifted from the storage area, and turned at the soft clicking of shoes on the concrete of the roof. The Wutain man has moved closer to him, with a soft smile on his features as he fiddles with his cuff and he can see the line of a removed ponytail holder, making him smile at the sight of his brother’s wild curls being pulled back from his eyes. 

“You are both free to do as you please, but I would like to offer you an opportunity…” The Wutain man began and he sighed—here was the catch with the Turks being the ones to transport them here—he turned from pulling their bags out of the storage compartment of the helicopter and allowed his eyes to take in the man’s appearance. He was pretty, elegant and fair. A model would be remiss to take notes from the man on hair and skin care. “To join us.”

“Not interested.” He held no love for Shinra, and he held no drive or wish to become a paid murderer. He’d killed because he needed to, the Turks killed because they were _told_ to. “... I’m thankful for your help, in every aspect that you possibly were involved in, but I have my brother to think of.”

“Of course.” The man frowned, and he believed he was no longer used to being denied. He could tell from the shift of light within his dark brown eyes. “If you change your mind…” He sighed as the raven haired man reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a case holding his business cards before handing one over. 

It was black, sleek, with his name printed in Wutain as well as Common Gaian, the Shinra logo and in the corner was a slight but invisible raising that he was sure held the Turk logo—whatever it may be. He didn’t move for some time, considering the pros and cons of taking the card and accepting the offer for “later”, and of refusing the card and being put on the Turks’ surveillance for not at all good reasons. 

“Boss, let them be kids a bit longer.” The quiet man spoke up, softly as he kept a hand on his brother’s shoulder and he hummed in contemplation. After several quiet moments, he finally reached out and took the card. 

“Is there a name that you would prefer for us to address you by?” He read the Common on the business card, sounding out the name and trying to remember his language lessons. Tseng was the Leader of the Turks, a man lost in a Shinra sea, away from home and possibly not much older than the other two men that had flown them here. There was something within the older man’s eyes, and the way he carried himself that made him relax slightly. Whatever these three had survived, they were still standing… just as he was. He still held no love for Shinra, but he could consider loyalty to this lost Wutain and his two companions. 

“...” A name to address them by?

“Rose?” He blinked at the sudden sound of his brother’s voice, cutting in through the tense silence. All eyes turned to him, and he felt his head tilt in curiosity. “Beautiful but capable of defending itself. Pretty and underestimated, capable of thriving even in harsh climates.”

“Rhodes?” The girl suggested, coming up on Tseng’s left. 

“Rhodea.” He quietly suggested as he finally finished playing mental scrabble with the name. “Andrea Rhodea.”

“It rhymes. Suits you both.” The loudmouth smirked, grabbing a few bags as his brother chuckled and allowed himself to be lifted by the tallest Turk—he was truly terrible at names—like a much younger and smaller child than he was. But it was cute, and nice to see him relaxing and talking again after so long of him being silent.

“Well, Mr. Rhodea. We will set you both with us for tonight and tomorrow Reno and Rude will introduce you to the woman that’s offered to look after you both.” Tseng nearly smiled at him, and he couldn’t deny the odd comfort he felt in the groups’ presence. Even the girl was growing on him, as she softened and stopped trying overly hard to settle their nerves.

“I’m hungry, Andi.” Speaking of Jules. They all chuckled as they grabbed their bags and walked into the building, meeting a pretty blonde boy around Jules’ age that quickly clung to Tseng’s waist as they walked.

“I’m hungry too, Tseng!” The boy added in as their group walked through the hall and towards the glass elevator. “Who is this?”

“A new Turk and his brother, Rufus.” The girl—what was her name again?—spoke up softly as she hit the elevator call button as she ruffled a hand through the boy’s hair.

“Rufus Shinra?” Jules questioned as he yawned and flipped a stray strand of curls back from his eyes, using his gifted sunglasses as a makeshift headband, and tilting his head as he looked over the other preteen.

“... Yes?” He hummed as he watched the heir to the megalomaniac company try not to squirm under Jules’ sudden attention, and recognizing the fear of false celebrity or bullying, Andrea allowed himself to reach out and soothe the agitated teen.

“Jules is just curious. Used to being the only pretty boy he knows.” He gently cooed, soothing the blonde as Jules pouted at him. He squirmed, and Rude set him down as the elevator doors opened and they all stepped inside.

“You’re prettier than I am, Andi!” Jules protested as he pouted up at him, and he smiled at Tseng as the two boys began to talk in circles of childish nonsense. The discussion mostly revolves around who the two boys knew that they considered to be pretty, but it allowed the older men to pay attention to outside things and gave Tseng the ability to walk without his cling-on. At his left, he could hear Rude and the girl stifling chuckles while Reno had stepped up beside the two preteens to join in on the discussion.

To be entirely honest, Andrea drifted and zoned out of the conversation as they walked down to employee residences within the building. He stayed somewhere in that drifting state as they were allowed into Tseng’s apartment—currently already being invaded by Rufus—and then as a few calls were made inviting someone over for dinner as Cissnei left them to it, and he zoned fully back in as he and Jules were introduced to Sephiroth, Angeal Hewley and Genesis Rhapsodos.

With the three SOLDIERs, Jules and Rufus were perhaps allowed to stay up far longer than any of them should’ve allowed, but it was nice to meet them and even better as they all relaxed into their own discussions of teenage nonsense. Andrea found himself laughing for the first time in _months_ as Jules and Rufus explained their “who’s the _prettiest_ pretty boy” game and how to score people to Genesis, who quickly began to argue his own case for being at the top of this pretty boy throne.

His own perch was between Sephiroth and Tseng as the two talked in Wutain, the native man teaching the other and helping him improve his speaking and reading skills. On the far couch, Rude lay stretched out tapping away at his phone, with his sunglasses off for once and Andrea could admit it looked a little odd without them. To the Turk’s right sat Angeal stressed out in a recliner, reading and softly discussing different martial arts with the other and taking notes as he did. It was all… domestic. Their own type of family it seemed.

Eventually Andrea had to fight back yawns, barely registering how Tseng covered him with a thick quilt as his head somehow ended up on a pillow in Sephiroth’s lap with the other’s hands carding through his curls. Lights were turned off, the two kids were tucked in and slowly the soft sounds of Reno and Rude’s breathing joined the boys’, even as the soft dulcet tones of Tseng’s deep timber spoke in low tones with the three Firsts. 

Andrea Rhodea fell asleep, that first night in Midgar, with his head in the Silver Demon of Wutai’s lap, surrounded by sleeping Turks, with Jules having befriended Rufus Shinra…

All-in-all, it was a good way to spend the high day of the Winter Solstice. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the kami I LOVE the Turks and I think this chapter showcases that. 
> 
> Note on Ages:
> 
> \- Sephiroth (22)  
> \- Angeal (20/21)  
> \- Rude (20/21)  
> \- Genesis (20)  
> \- Reno (19)  
> \- Cissnei (17/18)  
> \- Kunsel (16)  
> \- Andrea (15)  
> \- Zack (14/15)  
> \- Aerith (14/15)  
> \- Rufus (13)  
> \- Jules (13)  
> \- Cloud (12)  
> \- Roche (10)  
> \- Leslie Kyle (9)  
> \- Merle (8)


	8. Undercity Heights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrea and Jules are introduced to their new landlady and their first new neighbor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me awhile to write and get out. My apologies. I receive Botox injections for severe chronic migraines (they are helping wonderfully), but do have some side effects for the first few days after the new injections. So, I will possibly be out of it for a bit. But I got this finished and wanted to post.

Andrea had woken up early, despite having stayed up later than normal, and had spent a few minutes untangling himself from between Sephiroth and Tseng. How any of them had been comfortable the way they all fell asleep on each other and non-sleeping furniture, he did not know. He had served as a marker for the rest, except for the two kids, to wake up and begin their day. 

Which is how he and Jules found themselves with Reno and Rude, down in the Midgar Undercity, in the middle of the Sector 7 slums as they were introduced to an older woman named Marle. She seemed nice enough, and since Andrea was on orders to stay under the radar for the next year—a type of probation—it was thought prudent for him and Jules to hide in plain sight. Marle offered the perfect place for them to settle and adjust to their new lives. He would have training and meetings with Reno, Rude or Tseng over the next year as he was tested and trained, while being allowed to be with Jules. Tseng was being careful with the young preteen, and Andrea was thankful for the unexpected care and consideration involved. 

“Well, I have another kid under my care. So, you two behave and you three should get along.” Marle finally hummed as the two Turks left. Some of their things were being safely kept up in Tseng’s quarters above the plate, but most of their things were in their bags. Andrea was honestly anxious to set their things down and explore their new home. But the woman, Marle—their landlady—would not stop talking. “He gets up early everyday to… Oh! There he is!”

Andrea wasn’t sure _what_ he was expecting as he turned to look where Marle had gestured, but it wasn’t to see a small framed boy with cute blonde hair, a pretty face and gorgeous blue eyes. 

“Aww!” Jules cooed beside him, “He’s so pretty, Andi!”

He couldn’t agree more with his younger brother, but as Marle called out to the kid, he found himself at a loss for words. 

“Kiddos, this is Cloud. Cloud, this is Andrea and Jules.”

* * *

Whatever else he’d expected to face today, it hadn’t been meeting a teenaged Andrea Rhodea, especially not with the way he’d always known the man to be so much older than him. A part of him tried to argue that this could possibly just be an instance of a common enough name—bull _shit_ —but one look at the older boy’s eyes and then down at the slightly younger Jules hiding behind his brother, with unsculpted lips, but those wild and beautiful red colored curls and same pretty eyes… his gaze traveled back up to Andrea’s face, and shifting backwards on his left foot slightly, so as not to crane his neck, he took in this new Andrea’s appearance. So many people had been the same as before, but this was an odd exception to his previous realities and was making him wonder if the siblings _had_ existed in his first lifetime but he simply hadn’t known of it. He definitely would’ve remembered the two men, especially Andrea, if he’d met him in that first life but… que sera sera. Taking in the teenager before him, he smiled at the black jeans, black boots, black sweater and the long black trench coat with its white and gold trim—the man definitely had an aesthetic, no matter his age or reality. Casting his gaze back up, Cloud found himself caught in those beautiful green-gray eyes for a few moments, before turning his gaze over the soft dark brown and black curls lightly falling to Andrea’s shoulders. It was… odd… to see the once dancer’s hair at any length other than closely shaven, but if anything, it added extra beauty to the already breathtaking teen.

“Alright, stop sizing each other up and make friends.” Marle huffed, chastising them both and Cloud shook his head as he looked from Andrea to their landlady. “Cloud, these boys are new orphans from Junon. I’m expecting you to show them around, got it?”

Nodding, he hummed and studied the two once more. He was curious if either boy already held traits from the men that he once knew, or if that would only come to them in time. Leslie held some traits that Cloud remembered from the first timeline in which he met the younger, but there was a _lot_ that Cloud hoped would _never_ form within the younger boy.

“Name’s Cloud Strife.” He offered up instead of standing silently, watching as Andrea stayed steady, still and quiet, even as Jules slightly stepped away from his older brother and smiled. The other boy was _still_ taller than Cloud, and that offered some brief comfort for his reeling mind, and as the other’s hair shifted Cloud couldn’t repress a chuckle. In the last lifetime, he’d once questioned why Jules lived in a headband—according to Ronnie and Jay it only disappeared for showers—but he was beginning to see it in the way the boy’s curls seemed to hold their own mind.

“Jules Rhodea. This is my brother Andi. You’re a tiny little pretty boy… I…” He blinked as Jules suddenly grew quiet and tucked himself back in his side. He briefly noticed Marle had drifted away to Johnny’s Dad’s store, then focused back on the body language of the brothers. Andrea was stiff, pulled taunt and ever watchful of everything around them while Jules kept tucked into his side and curled slightly inward. It was so drastically different than Cloud had ever known, and it made him equal parts worried and protective.

“So I've been told…”, Cloud hummed, then carefully stepped forward to pick up one of the bags on the ground and gestured at the stairs. “This way then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awww! Finally! Back together again. Hehe.


	9. Training Smiles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s only after the new year has set in that Cloud finds his chance to talk to his new neighbors. It goes well, don’t ask him what exactly what was discussed though... his brain is kind of fried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! 🎆🎊 🥳🎉
> 
> So, this is another slightly bittersweet chapter, but it ends on a happy note. Cloud’s made some progress, but there’s still a long way to go.  
> —  
> TW/CW: A (hopefully last?) mention of child abuse, and a short discussion of off-screen minor character death.
> 
> Be safe, be careful. Carry on.

It wasn’t until after the new year had come in, storming above plate and unsettling the city below, that Cloud is fully able to sit and watch Andrea Rhodea. He’d noticed how off the teen was when they first met, and how both boys had reacted to Jules’ own words, but his suspicions hadn’t actually _gone_ anywhere until earlier this morning when Reno and Rude had appeared out of uniform and had Andrea in the open space in front of the apartments training. He and Jules were up on the stairs of the balcony, keeping up out of the way from the two Turks—and maybe avoiding Johnny—as they watched Andrea be put through his paces with Rude. Andrea was fluid and graceful, a stunning vision to watch as he stretched and then followed the meditative movements that Rude showed him. It was similar to watching him dance, and in a bid to get some information, he voiced the thought to Jules.

“He looks like a dancer.” It was soft spoken, as he tended to be with the two, but Jules still startled a bit. He tended to do that, either from forgetting Cloud was nearby, or from losing himself in whatever darkness clouded his pretty russet brown eyes.

“He was.” Jules’ voice was soft, but he’d settled back from startling at Cloud’s voice, and he shifted slightly to see Andrea and Rude better. Reno was off to the side, watching the teenager with his head tilted—he was calculating something. “He took lessons in Junon. His teacher said he has a natural talent.”

“Why did he stop?” He knew he might be pushing, too much too soon, but he wanted to know what had happened to this version of the only man Cloud had ever truly fallen head over heels for.

“...” Jules sighed, taking in a big breath before letting it out on a huff. “Our… stepfather. He… he made Andi quit, to get a job and pay rent.”

Cloud hummed as he sat and processed exactly what Jules was and was _not_ saying. Something had definitely happened, and he sincerely hoped that this same _something_ hadn’t happened in the last two lifetimes. It was… brutal to think of. Not that Cloud could truly do much damage to people while so small, or with his cheap sword, but _still._ That sense of protectiveness was burning hot and bright through him, and it was beginning to consume him.

“... Did Andrea kill him?” He suspected it, for two orphans to suddenly be moved to Midgar when there were orphanages in Junon, but he still wanted verbal confirmation. If he didn’t know some of their history—at least in part—he wouldn’t be able to formulate an idea of how to befriend and defend them.

He could remember, faintly, of Ronnie having joked—in that short week between waking and coming _here_ —that he didn’t know which brother Cloud was truly after, and Jules’ angry response at the suggestion he would touch his brother’s heart was a terrible accusation. Roche and Reno had calmed down the trainer, and after calming Jules had muttered something so low that only Roche and Cloud had heard: “I don’t touch my brother’s heart when he’s always protected me.” That had been the last time he’d seen Roche before his visit to the other’s garage. The pain and darkness that had seeped into Jules’ voice and eyes had worried him, but he’d not had the time to figure it out. And now? As he sat next to the slightly older boy, he could see the same pain and darkness settling over Jules’ body. It was like a physical shroud, with the pain still so fresh. Cloud was absolutely livid at the possibilities. Andrea was his longest—and greatest—love, and that meant Jules was family. Hell, Jules had been _family_ for longer than Andrea had; especially since Cloud had met the younger hours prior to the dancer, and his time with both had been so very short. 

“It was self-defense.” Jules’ soft voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he nearly forgot what he’d asked the other. “He woke us up in the middle of the night, I didn’t hear all that he said because he’d hit me hard enough to dizzy me… but…” Jules slowed, his breathing hitching as he fought back a sniffle. His eyes drifted over Andrea still training with Rude, and then up at Cloud. “Andi found the gun our stepfather kept…”

“And Andrea was the one left standing.” Cloud could see it. Andrea Rhodea had been a dancer, a man that saw beauty within a soul and not just upon the surface, and he’d also been a business owner; but he’d _also_ been a prostitute, a figurehead of Don Corneo’s crime ring, and had sat at the top of the Trio. He was a ruthless figure under all glamour and charm. Cloud had still come to trust the man, come to trust and rely upon Jules—had grown protective of Leslie too—and all of that was within the first lifetime of meeting them. His first time through Wall Market had been… cringeworthy to say the _very_ least. In his second lifetime, he’d met the dancer while so young, and had so easily fallen into the man’s presence. He couldn’t really explain it, the way that he seemed to melt into Andrea’s touch, or how much he let his guard down around the man. 

“He told the Turks no, initially. He may still be able to say no, after the next year is up… I know he’d prefer to dance again. Once we heal up.” Jules’ voice was soft, sad and a bit protective. It was nice to see some of the boy’s spirit come back.

“Well… while he trains, we can too.” Cloud was formulating an idea. Moving, he swung himself down from his perch and stretched as he walked towards the others. Faintly, he could hear Jules follow him, and he smiled as he stepped up to Reno’s side. “Can we help?”

Rude and Andrea stopped moving, turning to look at him, and he smiled to see some of that fire in Andrea’s eyes was still there. Waiting to be rekindled and let loose upon the world.

“Do you workout at all, Choco-chick?” Reno quipped, and he was _not_ amused, even as Jules stifled a giggle behind him. 

“Everyday.” He really wanted to quip back that he worked out more than Reno did, and that sex didn’t count as a valid exercise regimen… but he didn’t. He truly wanted to, having known the man for three full lifetimes before this one, but that knowledge wasn’t something he could explain away right now. Besides, he wanted to help—wanted to get to know this new iteration of Andrea—and antagonizing Reno wasn’t going to give him that.

“Hmm. Alright. I suppose I’ll join in too.” Reno acquiesced, and Cloud had to fight back a chuckle as Jules rushed to Rude’s side, claiming the other from his brother. He had a crush, it was cute.

Cloud blinked as he heard a low chuckle, and seeing Andrea smirking amusedly at his brother set butterflies loose in Cloud’s stomach. “I don’t have the heart to tell him that Rude’s straight… and far too old for him.” Andrea’s voice was a quiet whisper as he slightly leaned down to Cloud. Reno was near Rude and Jules, adjusting the boy’s stance, and so they were left slightly to their own devices.

“Eh… let him dream.” Cloud replied as he stifled a chuckle. “It’s sweet to see though.”

“Hmm… a bit. Beauty holds no notions of gender… so, if Jules is finding his inner beauty again well…” Andrea sighed, but was softly smiling at the growing silliness of the scene before them. Reno was quickly helping Jules flirt, and Rude was slowly growing as red as his partner’s hair.

“Would you like a tour?” Cloud hummed as he looked up at the taller teen.

“Hm...I would like that.” Andrea smiled, and Cloud turned away from the three goofing off boys, keeping slow but steady as Andrea fell into step beside him. Cloud hummed as he began to explain the Undercity, the sectors and the people…

Hours later, he wouldn’t be able to recall a word of what he had said, all he’d been able to think of would be the way Andrea sounded when he laughed and how cute the teen was when he smiled. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m feeling better from my injections, and so I was able to think with a clear mind not fogged by sleep or random aches, which allowed me to finally write this chapter. It’s short, but I’m happy with it.
> 
> P.S.: I just keep imagining how cute Cloud’s expression must be to Andrea after Cloud’s brain ceases to function.


	10. Pretty Boy is Suffering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He thought it was nightmares and broken dreams, but now he’s not so sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW/CW: Light discussions of dark things, and a bit of mental health, self worry and stressed thoughts. Read carefully, but it should be ok. 
> 
> I woke up from a dead sleep with the song Pretty Girl (The Way) by Sugarcult stuck in my head in a loop, alongside with the content for this chapter and I’m sure this is a tad clunky because of the “not fully awake” part, but I like how this developed and I loved writing this POV.

He used to love pretty things, watching the beauty of humans or nature. Even those dark things like the mako reactors, death and destruction machines, SOLDIERS and the giant mechs belonging to Shinra that destroyed openly and blindly. To survive in this world, one must find beauty or you could likely grow cold, indifferent or insane—like Sephiroth, Genesis Rhapsodos and Angeal Hewley had.

He’d always been plagued by shifting nightmares, things that only faded in the light of day around Andrea or when he was running. Balance of mind, body and soul is what he sought. To keep the nightmares away—to keep out the intrusive thoughts of their stepfather and the way the vile _thing_ would treat them.

He used to speak openly to people he found beautiful, and he had done such a thing with one Rufus Shinra when he met the other boy upon arriving in Midgar. However, he hadn’t opened his mouth to say such words again since they’d met Cloud.

In fact, his mind hadn’t stopped spinning and contradicting itself ever since he had sat eyes upon the younger, and smaller, blonde. Cloud Strife was a being known only to his dreams, late night thoughts of wandering questions that never seemed to have answers and would often disappear from his mind upon waking. But now? Now he often sat next to the boy and watched him watching Andi like the teen was the only person that ever mattered to the preteen. He wasn’t jealous, not by a long shot. It just made him question his own sanity.

He understood dreaming of Andi, of seeing the other on a stage as the star of the show and shining with an inner light, dangerous and yet so stunningly beautiful as he silently ran everything within the Market. What he _didn’t_ understand was how he had been dreaming of an older Cloud, with a permanent pout and in beautiful gothic lolita or gothic aristocrat dresses. He had memories of a slightly _too much_ lilac and lavender dress, of teasing the younger man that he was simply _stunning_ , but couldn’t possibly workout in that getup.

He could also feel cloth in his hands, sewing a beautiful red and black number for a teenage Cloud; sewing a blue dress as well…

And now he sat watching the current Cloud sitting before him as he sat with clothes from the orphans at Leaf House that needed fixing. His hands were steady, and he was very talented, but there was one dress that he kept putting aside from the others—pretty pink thing for one of the younger girls, with a trimming of lace that the hemline had fallen apart on. He kept watching Cloud, looking at the dress with a growing pout for several moments before turning to watch Andrea training with Reno, then returning his gaze to the current project in his lap.

He’d thought, at first, that Cloud couldn’t possibly be the same man from his dreams—going back three full lifetimes before this one—but then he’d caught the young boy humming _Stand Up_ and had even managed to see the boy slightly do part of the dance. There was _no_ _way_ that the boy could know such things if his dreams were simply dreams.

Instead of speaking his mind and asking, however, he just stayed quiet and watched the blonde. He did need healing, after everything that’s happened in _this_ lifetime, after all. Still, the boy was trying to reach out to them, trying—and succeeding—in making both him and Andi smile and feel better. He’d noticed how Andi would move and dance when they were alone in their room after another day the teen would spend with Cloud, as if the blonde had healed another crack in his brother’s broken soul.

“Can you not sew lace?” He questioned softly, not wanting to startle Cloud from his work, but also wanting to reach out to the other.

“... Not really.” Cloud huffed and pouted. It was so cute, and brought back another flash of memory to his mind. It was just enough to push himself forward and move to sit beside the other and lift the dress from the protective bag where it lay.

“I know how.” He spoke softly, opening up and yet staying slightly closed to not startle the other.

“Please?” Cloud gratefully smiled at him and he couldn’t repress the chuckle that escaped from his mouth before taking up his own needle and thread to begin the tailoring and adjustments to the cute dress. 

Maybe, once his mind and soul was a bit more healed, he would design and create again. Hopefully with the right dress on Cloud, Andrea would heal too. That’s how it had happened at the Honeybee Inn in the timeline where it had first existed. When Andrea had come to him, high as a kite on adrenaline and completely enamored with the ex-SOLDIER, he’d been shocked and had stayed in that state through morning, past the Sector 7 plate dropping and into Cloud bringing sweet Tifa into the gym. Andrea had fallen for the younger man, and Jules had stared after his cold hearted brother for _years_ in shock at the way the dancer had fallen head over heels in love with a man he’d not even had sex with. Cloud’s simple presence had healed his brother once— _twice_ —before, and he sorely hoped this lifetime would be no different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty girl is suffering  
> While he confesses everything  
> Pretty soon she’ll figure out  
> What his intentions were about
> 
> ~ “Pretty Girl (The Way)” by Sugarcult


	11. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud’s woken by a terrifying scream in the night, and in a blind rush, reacts. It’s only nightmares, and he stays with the brothers, soothing away the terrors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for this taking so long to get out, real world life got in the way. This also just didn’t want to behave.

It’s two days after Cloud sat and watched Jules expertly sew and repair lace, and they sat talking and bonding over seamstress mothers, that he’s woken in the middle of the night by a terrified scream coming from the boys’ shared room. It is instinct that he rushes from his room, his secondhand—and cheap—junior buster sword in his hand as he moves from his room to the door of the siblings’. Another scream comes from inside, paired with a yell from Jules and he doesn’t think before he breaks into the room.

His eyes focus first on the standing figure of Jules, leaning over Andrea’s bed and trying to shake him awake, and after a quick scan of the room to find no one else present, he relaxes from his battle stance and rests his sword just inside the door before shutting it and moving to Andrea’s side.

It’s a quick movement to slip past Jules and to settle into the bed beside Andrea, moving to lift him up and firmly hold him tight to his chest. He used to do this with Denzel, when the nightmares after Advent Day would randomly haunt the boy, and falling into it now is second nature—more so with his memories of the last lifetime and how he used to sleep in Andrea’s bed. It’s hard to brace himself back against the headboard as Andrea yells and thrashes again in his grip, and he briefly lets go of the teen to change how he’s holding him. Instead of holding his arms down, he adjusts his grip to allow one arm free reign and catches the teen’s hands instead. Andrea’s thrashing calms minutely, and as the teen curls into his smaller frame, Cloud softly hums and gently squeezes the tan hands resting in his.

It’s an oddly inverted reflection of their dance, of when Cloud’s dress was revealed and Andrea whispered to him…

“It’s ok, breathe Andrea.” He gently moves Andrea’s hands, holding both in one of his own, and gently begins to card his free hand through the man’s dark curls. It’s not a plain dark brown color, but it doesn’t exactly reach a solid black, it’s not a color Cloud can easily describe but he finds it beautiful all the same. Though it’s still drastically odd to see Andrea with any length of hair that isn’t the short buzzed style that features so strongly in his dreams. “Breathe Andrea, you’re having a nightmare. It’s just me and Jules… you’re safe.”

He keeps softly whispering to him, calming as the thrashing stops and Andrea’s breathing slows. Jules has moved to sit between Cloud and the wall, and it’s a thing of comfort when the redhead pulls blankets up over the three of them before tucking himself in Cloud’s side.

He’s almost drifting off into sleep, sure that Andrea has fallen into more peaceful dreams, when the teen’s voice softly speaks into the quiet of the room.

“I’m not an invalid, Cloud.” Andrea’s eyes are open, the soft light gray and misty green color so soft to look down into… to lose himself to. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... In the morning, something will itch.


	12. Morning Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrea wakes up after his night of nightmares, and just needs to breathe. He’s not left alone for long though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was sweet to write.

Andrea isn’t exactly in the most comfortable position when he wakes up, faint traces of the nightmares from the night before are still haunting his waking hours, but he’s warm and cared for. He’s a little groggy and not able to really register everything in his whirling thoughts, but he does know that he’s wrapped up in Cloud’s arms with Jules curled around Cloud’s left arm, and his hand lightly gripping Andrea’s t-shirt.

It’s loving, sweet. He’s a little bit too warm, and he terribly needs his own space to wake up and inventory last night. He has to move… not really sure _how_ he’s going to do that with Cloud’s grip on his shoulders though.

* * *

It took some doing, but Andrea _had_ finally managed to get out of the others’ death grip on him. He didn’t go far, just to lean on the railing of their landing, just in case either boy wakes up; he doesn’t want Cloud or Jules to panic. 

His mind is in a blur, full of cotton and static. He’s filled with phantom pains, holdovers from the nightmares, and his throat is raw from the blood curdling screaming he was surely doing. The nightmares are still swirling in his mind, wanting to barrage his waking psyche. It’s all almost _too_ much.

“Feeling better?” Cloud’s voice is soft, and he only slightly jumps at the sound. Shifting, he hums and lets Cloud stand next to him at the railing. He’s a small kid, with a slim and lithe frame, with just barely there muscles… and _yet_ , he was capable of holding Andrea with a strong grip.

“A bit.” He answered, trying to stay steady, and not show his still ravaged mind. But his sore throat makes itself known and his voice cracks painfully as his vocal cords pull at trying to speak.

“Come here.” He turns to Cloud, raising a brow in his curiosity. Cloud is leaning up on his tiptoes, one hand braced on the railing as the other reaches up to Andrea’s throat to softly massage. The sound that escapes his lips as his knees buckle is absolutely _not_ a moan…

“Sit.” Cloud’s voice drifts away from him, and soon comes back, pushing him gently into a chair. He wants to argue with Cloud that he’s not an invalid, but his throat is too raw and sore, and he is still too emotionally exhausted to fight being cared for.

Cloud’s hands are masterful, knowledgeable and gentle as he moves Andrea’s head and massages his sore throat. It’s calming and soothing, and is quickly putting him to sleep.

“Don’t put me back under.” His hands catch Cloud’s wrists, and he opens his eyes as he moves the blonde’s hands to rest on his chest. “I need to think over some things, doll.”

“... Doll?” Cloud’s voice is closer, and he opens his eyes to see Cloud’s beautiful iridescent baby blues looking at him upside down as he’s kind of leaning over Andrea. It’s cute, and rather sweet, to see the caring look in those sky blue depths.

“You’re so tiny… and so very sweet.” He hums, reaching up to cup Cloud’s cheek, and lightly moves his hand to run through the long ponytail.

“... I’ve heard that before, but I’m not a doll, Andrea.” Cloud’s still smiling, despite his annoyed tone. His pout is adorable, reaching from his soft lips to his eyes.

“Hmm… is honey any better?” Andrea can’t help his chuckle at the way Cloud’s nose scrunches.

“Not… very. But…” He can see Cloud shrugging, but it looks odd from their current angle. “I’ll follow your lead.” Cloud’s hands run through his hair again, and he barely suppresses the moan trying to escape his throat.

“Trying to earn my favor?” He hums, his voice drifting as the soothing motions are putting him to sleep again.

“I’m sure I can keep up.” The hands in his hair stills, coming to rest on his chest again, with his own resting on top of Cloud’s. He can slightly register Jules’ voice as he joins them. But he’s so tired. The nightmares are finally fading away. 

  
He doesn’t remember being moved back to his bed, but he does wake up just long enough to pull the boys back down with him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm.


	13. Wake Me Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrea wakes up, once again in the morning after his nightmare, but this time it’s for good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW/CW: Mentions of nightmares, violent memories, and off-screen, implied main character and side character death. Also slight implications of mental health, degrading physical health and terminal illness. 
> 
> It’s short, and brief; but still please be careful lovelies.

The next time that Andrea wakes up, he’s stretched out in bed instead of curled up, Cloud is tucked protectively to his chest, one of his arms over Andrea’s waist and the hand is tightly gripping the back of his shirt; just beyond him is Jules’, laying close to Cloud, with an arm wrapped around the blonde’s waist and—once again—his hand is tightly gripping Andrea’s shirt. It’s cute to see the two boys that mean  _ everything _ to him, clinging to him as much as he seeks to cling to them in return. Cloud may be tucked into his chest, but his own free hand has a tight grip in Jules’ shirt, striving to keep his baby brother ever near.

It is odd— _ beyond _ odd really—to be waking up in such an odd way. He’s woken up confused before, full of static and cotton, from pain and fear of falling asleep. But last night was  _ devastating. _ He’d gone from a few discomforting memories and nightmares of his bastard of a stepfather, to more distant memories of his body slowly rotting as he coughed up tar. He could deal with  _ all  _ of that—he would even go back and more brutally kill his stepfather if it were possible—but what had restarted this… he could’ve lived without that memory. 

His death was something he could’ve done without; from Heidegger touching him, not being strong enough to actually fight—since  _ when  _ had he fallen out of shape for self-defense—and then the worst action he’d possibly ever done: asking his savior to put him out of his misery. He shouldn’t have asked such a thing of Sephiroth, shouldn’t have done such a thing to his longtime friend… but blood was filling his lungs and he could feel glass in his back, his left eye was blind and… 

Andrea shook his head, not wanting to relive his nightmare once again. He’d lived through it last night, until Cloud had somehow soothed him and he’d finally woken back up at some other ungodly hour. Their conversation now echoes in his mind, and it reminds him of his birthday, when Cloud had returned from his coma and they’d realized they both knew. One week; his best and his worst of that lifetime.

He’s drastically calmer now, though he expects that is only due to waking up to Cloud and Jules both being so very close to him. He doesn’t know exactly how this lifetime was created, though he can guess why, and he can’t honestly say he has a problem with being closer in age to Cloud. It doesn’t even matter that the blonde is only twelve, he’s patient and he can wait. He’s more than learnt how by now. Besides, so much else is different now. Tseng likes him, he’s being trained to fight by Reno and Rude,  _ and  _ Cloud very possibly has his memories. This lifetime, no matter how he woke up, was going to be better. He would actively make sure of it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww! Andrea remembers!  
> —  
> Also, I may possibly write a one shot of the “missing week” and what happened (just the conversation between Seph and Andi) for the last lifetime to have ended. 
> 
> For clarification: yes, Cloud was with Roche at the garage when Andrea was killed.   
> —
> 
> P.S.: I’m so very sorry for the sadness. The clarification of what happened and events are for anyone that hasn’t read the last lifetime. 
> 
> Next chapter will swing back up in mood, I promise.


	14. Dance Past the Redline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Andrea trains with the Turks, Jules babysits Rufus and Cloud stays busy with his delivery service. It’s a delivery that leads Cloud running into an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This behaved faster than I thought it would, as I’ve spent all day slowly writing and rewriting this as it wasn’t working out the way I wanted.
> 
> But, now it has and so I hope you all enjoy!

Andrea isn’t really sure if he’s thankful for the weekend to be over or not, as he wasn’t able to talk to Cloud about their conversation on the landing, and instead had been dragged along by both boys over to Sector 5 and the Leaf House Orphanage to deliver the fixed clothing of the kids. He’d admittedly been bored and annoyed at first, not wanting to be near the loud sounds or exactly feeling up to being touched when his nerves were still so very raw, but then his eyes had fallen on a small boy with beautiful white blonde and silver hair paired with a set of gorgeous gold eyes. It took only one short question of the boy’s name and Andrea’s heart had ceased beating; Leslie was the _cutest_ little nine year old. Absolutely and positively adorable. After meeting the still acting tough youth, he’d allowed himself to relax around the kids and allowed himself to be roped into agreeing to teaching some of the kiddos dance and fitness. If Jules hadn’t agreed to teach fitness and self-care as well, he would’ve just given a “maybe”—that would secretly have been _no_ —and if Cloud hadn’t agreed to teach sword fighting, he definitely would’ve said no.

And that’s how the weekend had gone; in the morning Cloud would wake them for early lessons over at the orphanage, then afterwards Jules would drift off to help Marle and he’d practice his dancing in his room while Cloud ran his merc errands and deliveries.

So by Monday, he was slightly exhausted and extremely anxious to see his two Turk teachers.

* * *

* * *

Cloud smiled and chuckled as he sat up on the landing next to Jules as they watched Andrea _literally_ dance around Reno as the redhead tried—and _failed_ —to keep up with the younger teenager. Andrea moved with a grace Cloud could remember from two past lifetimes, but hadn’t yet seen in this lifetime, and it captivated him. He’d spent the weekend carefully watching the older boy as he went from the stiff and slightly skittish stance that he’d held since the Winter Solstice—and probably before that—to a more fluid and self confident walk. Andrea stood taller, didn’t drift off in his thoughts as much as he was, had begun to relax more outside of his and Jules’ room, and had even allowed himself to be roped into teaching the kids at the orphanage basic dance steps.

Cloud still rehashed their early morning conversation from Friday when Andrea had briefly woken up after his nightmares; Andrea’s words echoed their past lifetime and had set Cloud’s heart racing with a near painful feeling of his pulse in his throat. Cloud was pretty sure that Andrea remembered their past lifetimes together, but he wasn’t entirely sure how to bring it up, and more importantly: he didn’t want to trigger the nightmares again.

“Fuck you Andi! Are you going to fight me or keep dancing?!” Reno’s sudden and angry voice split through the morning air, and Cloud focused his eyes back to the set area before the apartments. Reno looked an absolute hot mess, with his hair wild and messed up from sweat, the fight and possibly his own mag-rod having been turned on him at some point.

“We’ve been fighting?” Andrea’s voice was sickly sweet with how much put upon innocence dripped from his lips as his head cutely tipped sideways, softly mocking his sparring partner but coming off so beautifully elegant instead of bratty. The head tilt made Cloud think fondly of his dances with Andrea on stage of the Honeybee Inn, and he found himself itching to either spar with the older teen or dance with him again.

“Ugh! You think you’re so clever!” Reno growled and huffed. Standing and shifting on his feet as he glared across the way to Andrea. His hair kept falling in his face, and his blue eyes sparked with fervor and anger. Anyone else, and Cloud would fear the look in Reno’s eyes, but despite everything—and because of everything—he held no fear of Reno hurting Andrea. Despite his bitterness at the memory of their past lifetime, and of having seen Reno buried hilt-deep within Andrea, Cloud would _still_ always trust the Turk—hard not to when he held memories of the redhead crying in his arms in Aerith’s Church over having failed Zack and his regrets over dropping the Sector 7 Plate; as well as still being able to feel and taste the older man’s lips on his own.

“Reno.” Rude’s voice sounded, calm and rational and serving to cut through the tension and electricity in the air. “Calm.”

“Do you want to dance, Rude?” Andrea hummed as he adjusted his stance, more grounded and centered with his hands properly placed for a defensive box. Cloud could see the flaws in the stance, but Andrea wasn’t too terribly off. Cloud hummed as he shifted to better see Rude’s round. Rude was always more Tifa’s thing, and they’d never been close, but Cloud had always enjoyed watching the silent Turk fight. Currently, however, he was less interested in watching Rude as he was far more curious to see Andrea in action.

“Watch your footwork and elbows in.” Rude’s voice was soft, but it still carried. He waited until Andrea shifted, listening to his orders, and then began his round of training the dancer.

* * *

A week passes them by, neither having the time to speak to the other, but Cloud can’t really be bothered by the lack of being able to speak to Andrea, as he’s been kept busy and Andrea’s been up on the Plate getting lessons from Tseng and there’s no one else Cloud would truly trust Andrea to be safe with than the fallen Wutain royal national. Besides, Jules went up with him after a day of a grumpy Rufus Shinra complaining about not having his favorite Turk’s full blown attention.

So, during the time of Andrea working and training, and while Jules is babysitting the pampered vice-president, Cloud can focus his attention on other parts of the Undercity and his various missions.

News out of Wutai spoke of Sephiroth making General, meaning the Silver Demon of Wutai had fully and completely been formed. While Shinra’s military propaganda had announced a new round of SOLDIER Recruits, and he’d been extremely happy to see Zack Fair and Kunsel on the new list of SOLDIER Thirds.

In Sector 7, he’d run into little Betty’s parents, and had taken to helping them out with absolutely anything and everything as the little girl was welcomed into the world. In Sector 5, he spent time with Biggs and Wedge teaching and tutoring the kids; even subtly directing Bigg’s attention on little Leslie and Merle—whom Cloud has a strong feeling was Leslie’s missing fiancé.

In Sector 6, he’s managed to get on Sam’s good side by helping with his chocobos, and even has snuck in to help Madame M with deliveries of massage oils, lotions and incense. He also went looking for Syd, Artemis, Avaline, Gabrielle, Ronnie and Jay—all to no avail; and he tried valiantly not to stress or overthink on why. He had never truly been close to Jules’ gym rats or Andrea’s bees. He was regretting it now, but he couldn’t stay in the lingering fear and doubt.

Along with Betty’s birth, he’d also found Oates and his watch—and possibly Moggie? It was odd to see the beloved little ones as newborns—and from the realization, he’d set off to the Undercity Sectors of 1-4 and over to 8 looking for Denzel and Reeve’s mother. 

In other words, Cloud was doing what he tended to do best: overwork and over stress while pretending he resolutely _wasn’t._

* * *

Cloud truly should’ve expected that he would find his beloved motorcycle-obsessed, insane and far too hyper, once frenemy in the Sector 8 Undercity garage. It takes him a few minutes to truly recognize the younger kid with the ash blonde mullet, rushing around the garage and excitedly helping out another—older—blonde mechanic, but _as soon_ as he hears the kid’s wild laugh, he can’t help his smile and a bit of his various worries and tension fades from his shoulders. 

He watches the kid run around, laughing and bothering some of the other mechanics in the shop as he slides and dives over or under various tool boxes, vehicles and equipment. Just as one of the mechanics turns, about to hit the hyper child, Cloud rushes forward and tugs the kid back into his chest. His Jr. Buster up and over them both in a protective stance just as the blonde mechanic calls out, and the man before him clangs his _wrench_ against Cloud’s sword. The younger kid in his arms stills, but he doesn’t feel a ripple or tension of fear within the smaller frame, just a sudden alertness.

“Roche!” Two voices yell the name at once, one from the angry man before them, and the other from the blonde approaching from their right side. The second voice sounds only slightly angry, but incredibly exasperated, like this type of thing happens every day—or considering Roche’s personality, it could be every hour, _on_ the hour, and Cloud wouldn’t be surprised.

“You need to reign in your child, Aurum!” The angry man, who’s currently as red in the face as Reno’s hair, yells at the mechanic that slips between Cloud and Roche as a human shield.

“He’s just hyper, Geralt.” Aurum says to the angry man, allowing Cloud to hear the same accent and drawl—albeit far more feminine—that he remembers hearing from Roche in his last two lifetimes; paired with the long ash blonde hair pulled up into a ponytail, Cloud can only assume this is Roche’s relative.

“Get your son under control Aurum.” The red faced man grumbles low, sneering around Aurum and Cloud can feel the low growl from Roche rumble into his own chest as he shifts and glares back at the man.

“You move to hit him again and you’ll not have to worry about what I do in _my_ garage, Geralt.” Aurum sneers before turning and tugging them both back out of the garage.

Cloud blinks up as his eyes adjust to the lights of the slums, and rubs at them as Aurum softly lectures Roche. When his eyes adjust fully, he turns and looks up at the tall—and pretty—woman. It _shouldn’t_ surprise him, seeing a woman owning and running her own garage, or that it would take a woman to calm and manage Roche’s wild soul, but it still takes him a few minutes to process it all. Aurum is a pretty woman, with Roche’s eyes, hair and lightly tanned but sandy toned skin. Her figure is hidden under her full overalls, but her combat boots are solid black and there are hints of them being steel-toed as well as possibly customized.

“Thank you for protecting my son, but can I ask why a kid is in my garage?” Aurum questions softly, curiously and Cloud shifts as her head tilts. It’s the same gesture he’s seen on Roche, and only increases Cloud’s confidence in the relationship between the two. Though, to be honest, the woman looks a bit too young to truly be Roche’s mother—he knows better than to question a woman’s age though, and so he doesn’t.

“I have a delivery for the owner of Aurum Garage from Wymer over in Sector 7.” Cloud answers, focusing on his job and errand that Wymer had requested he deliver. It’s easier to fall into the habit as he holsters his sword and pulls the carefully wrapped parcel from his backpack. “He said he apologizes for these being so late.”

Aurum blinks, then her eyes soften despite her lips not moving into a big smile. Next to her, slightly hiding, Roche is smiling wide and staring at him. “Tell him I said thanks.” Aurum replies as she opens the box, checking the contents—it looks like spark plugs and other delicate parts—before pulling out her payment and handing it over.

“Mom? Can I hang out with him?” They both blink at Roche’s request, and Cloud feels himself pout curiously at the other in confusion. “I wanna play.”

“I… you will need to be home before dark, Roche.” His mom is stern, serious, but also warm as she slightly smiles. “Do you mind him tagging along?”

Cloud wants to say no, he actually has a schedule to adhere to today, but… he can’t find the strength in him to say no. “Alright.”

“Thank you…?” Ms. Aurum questions as she sets one hand on her hip and tilts her head curiously at him. 

“Cloud. My name is Cloud.” He smiles as Roche bounces in place as he runs back into the garage. He’s about to ask where the younger boy is going, but it’s cut off as Roche walks out a beautiful red motorbike. It’s nowhere near as large or shiny as the beast that Cloud remembers, but it’s definitely a baby version of it.

“You crash that, you’re repairing it, kiddo.” Aurum’s voice is full of warning, but also a bit of that wild laughter, and Cloud can’t resist the smile on his face.

“Promise Momma.” Roche replies as he attaches a saddle bag and swings himself up onto the bike. “Come on, Cloud!”

“I’ll bring him back, Ms. Aurum.” He smiles as he makes his promise, and he shifts onto the bike behind the other blonde, feeling how custom even this baby of a beast is. They both wave, and Cloud adjusts his backpack and sword before getting a good grip on a handhold, and tapping Roche’s right leg with his own to signal he’s set. Roche’s wild laugh is all he hears as the bike roars to life and they take off through the sector.

They’re up on the plate, sitting at his favorite café and grabbing a very late lunch, when Roche finally pipes up and asks, “So, have you found Andi yet?”

It takes a bit longer than it probably should for Cloud to fully process what Roche has said, but once he does, he can’t hold back his laughter. Roche apparently will never change, no matter how young he is or without his SOLDIER enhancements; in a way, Cloud’s grateful to know that his wild friend’s personality wasn’t entirely created by the Mako injections destroying his mind. It’s good to know that Roche was always just a bit wild.

“I have. He’s fifteen now though, and Jules is thirteen; just barely older than me actually. Things are different this time, and I’m hoping it’s for the better.” He smiles as he replies to his old friend.

“I’m glad you’ve found them!” Roche bounces in his seat, and Cloud can’t hide his chuckles. The boy must be around Leslie’s age, or possibly even Cloud’s own, but he’s smaller than Cloud and it’s hard to truly tell. “I’ve missed you all. Mostly you, but Andi and Jules were fun while you were asleep. Tifa and I stayed focused on Andi for you—I know I didn’t tell you that in the garage—while Zack focused on Sephiroth; he blamed himself for your safety. Do you know what caused the restart?”

Roche barely breathes as he shifts between eating and peppering Cloud with questions, barely allowing Cloud to get a word in edgewise, but he doesn’t mind it. He’s missed this. But by the Goddess, he _prays_ he doesn’t wake up in a reset world once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Roche’s mom is an OC. If you recognize her (their) last name, kudos! No, this isn’t a crossover or any other hint at the worlds, I really just needed a name that screamed “grease monkey” and “mechanic”. With that said, her full name is Fran Aurum and yes that’s another wink at yet another world/game. No, there’s still no crossover or anything else. Just, Easter Eggs. 
> 
> —
> 
> Also: No; this isn’t going to reset again. Don’t worry!


	15. Talk To Me As I Ask For Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jules and Andrea find Cloud up above plate in Sector 8, but the surprise of seeing the blonde topside doesn’t last long when Jules’ attention is pulled away by the kid sitting with their friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW/CW: A slight moment of a possible panic attack involving Andrea appears in this chapter. 
> 
> Be careful and stay safe lovelies.  
> —  
> Also: Things come to light and one needed conversation of many is had.

Jules notices Cloud first, sitting at a picnic table in the open square around the fountain in Sector 8, laughing and smiling at a younger kid. He also notices Andi’s dropping smile and unsure look before his brother quickly covers his expression. He’s about to voice his concern over Andi’s sudden mood shift, when a loud and partially familiar voice calls out to them. “RHODEA!”

Jules blinks, once and then twice, before turning from a still frowning—but now in confusion instead of misplaced jealousy—Andi, and just barely has time to brace himself when the younger and slim boy launches himself into Jules’. The kid is clinging to him, mouth rambling a million miles an hour, though it’s all muffled and incoherentable as it’s all said into his shirt as the arms tightly wrap around his waist and refuse to let go. On the upside, Andi’s dark look is gone, replaced by confusion and amusement. Jules tries not to glare up at his brother, but he’s sure from the suppressed chuckle that he’s drastically failing—and probably pouting more than actually giving his death glare.

“I’ve missed you so much!” The kid clinging to him says into his chest, the first legible thing he’s said, and then his shoulders shake and Jules can hear quiet sobbing as the kid’s hands grip the back of his jacket. He catches Andi’s frown, and sees Cloud’s worried look as he comes to stand at Andi’s side.

“Roche…” Cloud’s voice and eyes are unsure and worried, one hand hesitantly reaching for the kid’s shoulder in concern. Andi blinks then, his eyes shifting any last traces of darkness away and instead growing concerned.

Registering the accent and drawl, Jules finally allows himself to relax and as he notices the ash blonde color of the definitive mullet, he truly processes who is hugging and clinging onto him. Roche Aurum, SOLDIER 1st Class, Speed Demon, Rebel—one of the cutest and most adorable wild boys that Jules has ever had the pleasure of meeting. Cloud had met him when he joined Shinra, and the two had raced and sped through training and had quickly hit SOLDIER eligibility as Zack became their mentor, and Cloud had started to bring the other blonde home with him. When Cloud had fallen into his coma, Jules had gotten the call first—as emergency contact—and had found Roche in his gym within hours. The man had gone on a stress fueled kickboxing spree, tearing his way through five different punching bags until Jules had interfered and had pulled Roche off into a back room… Where the blonde had tightly held onto him and cried—just like this.

Sighing, he finally moved and wrapped his arms around the younger boy. This was Roche, maybe Leslie’s age and he obviously remembered them. It was bittersweet—mostly because seeing the strong willed and wild ex-SOLDIER breakdown and cry ripped apart his heart. But holding the crying kid was second nature by now, especially after five long years of finding the younger man in his gym, overworking himself and only crying or venting when alone in Jules’ office. This was familiar, and out of habit he allowed one hand to rub Roche’s back as the other ran through the start of that beautiful ash blonde mane. It’s honestly ironic—perhaps poetic—that both his and Andi’s hearts were melted by a couple of SOLDIERS. At least Jules had more ground to stand on, since Andi fell head-over-heels in love after one dance with Cloud, and Jules had spent five long years just making a friend—despite whatever Ronnie and Jay had accused and insinuated.

“Roche…” He finally found his voice, and softly kept rubbing the boy’s back to calm him down. Jules didn’t know what had reset their lives, but if Roche remembered, he’s more than sure he’s been panicking. “It’s ok. I’m solid, you’re here. Cloud’s here.”

“We should talk.” Cloud’s voice is quiet, and he’s slightly shifting in that worried and tense way of his, when he’s starting to stress and fret. “... All of us.”

* * *

Jules has suspected that Cloud has his memories ever since the night of Andi’s nightmares, but the talk that occurs once they reach Roche’s home in the Sector 1 Undercity—and it’s odd to see a sector under the plate that _isn’t_ full blown slums—confirms it. Despite their shared pasts, their deep connections to each other, Andi and Jules don’t elaborate on how they’re orphans and thankfully the blondes don’t ask. When Roche asks if either of the siblings know why their lives were restarted, Jules honestly answers that he doesn’t know but Andrea stays quiet far too long for him _not_ to know. Despite the question burning in Roche’s eyes, and his own soul, Jules can’t bring himself to ask Andrea what he knows, and Roche drops it after the silence stretches.

Cloud watches the dancer though, his eyes narrowing and studying Andrea as he curls in on himself. Jules decides then, when he hears a strained sniffle escape Andi’s chest, that he will never ask again and he allows himself a soft smile as Cloud rushes and scrambles to comfort Andi. Curling up in Andi’s lap and snuggling into the teenager’s chest. It reminds Jules of their last lifetime, when Cloud would fret over Andi and even allow Jules and Syd to doll him up for shocking Andi out of his own thoughts.

A part of him wants to know just what happened to his brother, and who hurt him, but he loves him far too much to poke or prod at the wound. He’ll let it go, let it fade away. What’s important is that they’re here now, alive and together. 

“What are you needing to do, Cloud?” He finds his voice again, after a good half-hour of them all sitting in silence. Andi’s sniffles have stopped, and he’s relaxed again—though he’s still holding Cloud in his lap.

“I… It’ll take a long time to explain. But…” Cloud slowly begins, then stops. His face morphs into a pout, and his eyes darken as he thinks. Jules almost thinks Cloud won’t answer him with how long it takes for the younger to continue. “It will take me time to explain, and I still don’t know _everything_ but… I could use the help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, now they all know that the others have memories of their past lives. Also, I’m not entirely sure where Roche’s and Jules’ relationship is going, it just kinda... appeared. 
> 
> Note: I am not writing a rehash of the games, book or movie. Events will be referenced later, but I’m not writing a winding synopsis. It’s far too much. With that said, I’m working on ACC because it does hold more information than the base movie, and I’ve only read “On The Way To A Smile”.


	16. Fire In My Lungs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reno is and always will be a Turk; wild, mischievous and dangerous. But he’s not one without his regrets, his own dark thoughts—things he’s come to balance out in time. Babysitting off-the-clock helps, as does sparring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there Reno. And my lovelies. 
> 
> My sincerest apologies for the delay in this chapter, I have long-standing physical health issues that decided to read their ugly heads like a Midgar Zolom in the swamplands: deadly and too fast to realize. I am doing better now, and so I was finally able to finish this. 
> 
> This was amazing to write, and I think it might be in a slightly different style as I’m currently writing two fics at once, but this is still tonally on point. This is also longer than other chapters that I’ve written for this fic (this series in general), and that may become a regular thing as my other fic currently in production pops 3000 - 5000 words per chapter. 
> 
> A lot of bs is going on in the world right now, and so I give my well wishes and thoughts to everyone that all are safe and well. 
> 
> Without further ado, enjoy!

Reno hums to himself as he settles into the best vantage point to watch the playing kids from his rooftop perch as his assigned wards play with the Leaf House munchkins. It’s been a month since the ash blonde kiddo has joined up with Cloud, Andrea and Jules, and it’s only been within the last two days that Reno had _finally_ figured out who the kid was. Roche Aurum was the only son of Fran Aurum, the owner and mechanic of the Sector 8 Undercity garage that serviced not only Shinra’s vehicles, but the entirety of Midgar. Fran Aurum herself was another ash blonde beauty with stunningly vibrant dark sky blue eyes, a strong willed, single mother with a no nonsense attitude and absolute devoted love to her young son. The details were odd, but welcome, and he knew from personal experience that the woman did good work—her existence was still _weird_ to him. But, then again, so was a younger-than-him Andrea and Jules Rhodea.

He’s not really sure when he woke up and suddenly had several extra sets of memories, and he thinks perhaps they bled into his consciousness slowly, but the reality and mixing was still odd. With them, however, he’d changed a bit and shifted his attention to those people Cloud couldn’t watch: the three SOLDIER 1sts, and Zack Fair. It had been a blow to his psyche and guilt the first time he’d set eyes on Zack after his memories had settled into his soul, and he’d just barely kept himself from bounding over to the SOLDIER 3rd to engulf him in a tight hug. Zack had been one of his _greatest_ failures in his first _and second_ lifetimes, despite not having been terribly close to the excitable puppy, failing to get Zack off that ridge had haunted him for _months_ —until he and Rude had been ordered to drop the Sector 7 Plate; after that, his guilt had been equally split between failing Zack and killing _hundreds of thousands_ of innocents.

Those memories and thoughts, as well as thoughts from his last lifetime, were all why he was currently here in Sector 5 looking after the four kids. He’d begun by wanting to check on Cloud, but then he’d added in watching over the Rhodea siblings, only to be surprised at their tag-a-long’s existence. He didn’t have close memories of the Speed Demon, and so he wasn’t really sure what to watch for with him, but he held intimate knowledge of both Cloud _and_ Andrea—and didn’t _that_ fuck with his guilt meters. Since waking up to his memories, he had set himself on this mission of watching the kids on weekends while he watched the SOLDIER 1sts during the week, which meant he had to drop from watching Aerith…

Shaking his head, he shifts his stance and focuses back on the blonde, ash and silver heads of Cloud, Roche and Leslie; the two little kids are giving the preteen a run for his money, and it’s beyond cute to watch. It reminds him of Cloud with Denzel and Marlene, and while the thought of the two kids hurts his heart, he still can smile at the _here_ and _now._ Off to the right of the three boys, Andrea is laughing as he teaches a few little ones some basic dance moves, and on the far left side of the open area is Jules doing stretches and exercises with yet another group of kids. Briefly he wonders if any of the Honeybees, Jay or Ronnie are within the kids, but they aren’t his focus and so he doesn’t truly stay worried over them right now.

There’s so much he wishes he could say to Cloud, apologies and begging the small blonde for forgiveness, asking him for guidance or offering his help, but the blonde is never without the Rhodea siblings or Roche and so he really _can’t_ do any of those things. It doesn’t matter now that he’s worried over his ex-lover, especially with the way the blonde watches Andrea—he wasn’t sure if he could call the man Andi again, after his last lifetime fuckup—but he still watches and protects.

“You’re hovering.” He blinks at the sudden voice of Rude as he moves and crouches next to him. He also hasn’t spoken to his partner about all the changes in his head, but he’s sure his best friend has noticed his personality has changed; he just has yet to find the words to explain himself to the other.

“I know.” He replies simply, adjusting the hood of his jacket up more to hide his bright red hair and keep from catching Cloud’s attention. “Can’t help it, yo.”

“Cloud has always been more than capable. He will not easily be harmed or hurt, Reno. Besides, I’m sure he’s forgiven you for sleeping with Andi by now. He’s forgiven you for far worse, after all.” He blinks in shock at his partner’s words, and fights the sensation to facepalm as he sulks. He should’ve known that if he somehow knew that Rude would also somehow know, they were both pretty entrenched in Cloud and Avalanche after all. Rude and Tifa _had_ finally been dating before this all restarted, and their lives had been entwined with the Planet’s fate since the very first lifetime when they met Zack.

“I’m just watching them, Rude. They’re all kids and they deserve to stay that way for a bit longer, yo.” He sighs, admitting his worries and plans to his stoic friend. If anyone knew and understood his mental gymnastics and worries with minimal explanation, it would be Rude.

“Who’s the ash blonde kiddo?” Rude hums curiously as he changes the subject, and he can’t keep back his chuckle at Rude not recognizing the Speed Demon either, since Rude was usually better at recognizing people.

“It’s Roche.” He chuckles at the shocked look on Rude’s face and fights to keep his balance to not fall off his rooftop perch. “His name is Roche Aurum, and his mom is Fran Aurum from the Sector 8 Undercity garage. I’m not sure if all that was true the last two lifetimes, but that’s it for this one. He’s an adorable kid, and he spends his time bouncing from Cloud’s side to Jules’—he obviously has a crush on the latter and it’s cute.”

“He… he’s so small and cute.” Rude’s reply makes him snort, he can’t resist. “He was a pretty boy, from what I remember, but like this he is more so. Still appears to be extremely hyper, and rather fast. Who is he racing?”

“Hm? Oh, Leslie Kyle.” He hums as he shifts to watch the two kids race from one side of the area to the other, from the starting line at the beginning of the community center building, to the finish line at the end of the orphanage. Roche and Leslie keep running back and forth, hitting one line and then the next, with Leslie yelling as Roche laughs. Off to the side, standing on the porch of the orphanage was Jules calling out different call signs or something that Reno didn’t have a clue to the meanings of, and next to him sat Cloud as he curled up into Andrea’s side as the dancer leant with his back against the wall to take a break from his dance instructing.

Seeing them together addled and itched at his mind though, rousing his memories of having been with both men from different lifetimes. He could still feel Cloud’s lips against his own after Advent Day, when he finally broke down in Aerith’s Church and cried over his stress and guilt. Cloud had held him tight, carding a hand through Reno’s hair as he’d clung to the ex-SOLDIER—truly just ex-infantry but _whatever_ —and Reno had eventually twisted up and pressed his lips to the blonde’s, acting on his longtime crush for the taciturn merc. He’d immediately felt guilty and had tried to apologize, since there was definitely something between Cloud and Tifa, but then the merc had kissed him and Reno’s brain had ceased functioning. It hadn’t really been love between them, he _did_ love Cloud and he would follow his friend and ex-lover through hell, but Cloud’s heart was closed to real romance—until Andrea Rhodea had appeared in round two; because Reno remembered his existence and had memories of talk concerning Cloud dancing and going in drag to once again give Don Corneo a beat down—and his own had drifted between flings… and one really badly placed crush on a certain slim and long haired example of exquisite molten silver mercury. Ok, that was a bad metaphor to describe the man, but… _point was_ : Reno loved and could love without it being in-love. Which is how and why his guilt from the last lifetime of having slept with Andrea felt so… ashy in his mouth. He had good memories of Andrea—or Andi, as he used to call the dancer—not all involving sex, and those memories eased some of his guilt, but mostly knowing he’d hurt one or both by having slept _with_ both… it all just itched at his mind.

“Earth to Reno.” He blinks as he shakes his head to turn and look at Rude, but he just waves off the concerned look in his friend's gaze.

“Just thinking over how cute the kiddos are.” Reno smiles, not even lying at his words and he chuckles lightly when Leslie and Roche drag Cloud out to race with them. He may be only nineteen years old, but he would be damned if anything ruined this for his friends. “Come on, let’s get back. We’re off to Wutai tomorrow to babysit the boys.”

“They’re older than you, Reno.” Rude points out as they move and begin to climb down from the rooftops, but he just waves him off and chuckles as he jumps down.

“Not mentally, yo.” Reno calls back over his shoulder as he walks through Sector 5, away from the Leaf House, his ex’s and his circling memories.

* * *

Wutai is a beautiful place; country, culture: the works. There was a time, somewhere between lifetime one and two, that his love of the place was only existent as having been where Tseng came from. Tseng was something of grace, elegance and beauty. The Wutain never seemed to age, either. Round three he hadn’t given the country much thought, honestly his brain hadn’t been on much more than missions and bugging Rude by changing the positions of his glasses in his suit jacket. Now, though, Reno knows this country is something that will slowly fade and he fears that. He fears seeing those moments where the Silver Demon of Wutai will let loose and decimate hundreds of Wutains, more and more being taken out by Genesis and Angeal…

But all those worries are only in the here-and-now, and pale in comparison to the longtime worries currently rattling around in his brain.

He has two lifetimes where Genesis degrades, Angeal loses his ever-loving mind, Sephiroth goes insane, Zack and Cloud go missing, he fails to save Zack, he drops the Sector 7 Plate, Alien Mommy Dearest, Meteorfall, Rufus almost dies, Geostigma, Advent Day…

His last one still lost Genesis and Angeal, but everything else had been _better_ ; until it had suddenly reset and _why?_

These are all worries that rattle around in his brain as he sits and watches the three SOLDIER 1st Classes as they spar and train—honestly they’re _playing_ but Reno won’t point that out, he knows better. He watches them carefully though, making sure it stays friendly and doesn’t turn into their sparring session that destroyed the VR room and began Genesis’ degradation. It’s playful though, and cute. Sephiroth’s long hair is pulled up and back in a high ponytail, keeping it out of his way as he duels Angeal and Genesis. The General’s jacket and harness are both off, carefully resting in Reno’s helicopter, along with Genesis’ jacket and his copy of _Loveless_ , and Angeal’s Buster Sword.

The three are laughing as they tease each other, far out here in the Wutain wilderness, with Reno helping them steal this time to be kids. It’s a concept that he’s come up with after he watched Cloud and Roche play with the Leaf House kids, and the thought had stuck in his brain afterwards. Angeal Hewley and Genesis Rhapsodos had grown up together in Banora, and they’d had a full childhood; Sephiroth had grown up in the labs and had started being a soldier at only thirteen years old—the age Jules and Rufus are now—sent to the frontlines of this still on-going war, and ordered to kill. That means no childhood for the man.

The oddness and disgusting thoughts of the labs is enough to sour his mood though, but he follows it and thinks of Advent Day and the Remnants: Kadaj, Yazoo and Loz. They’d been fully grown—pretty, gorgeous and handsome—but they’d had moments of being like children. Marlene and Denzel had even discussed it with Cloud, him too, but mostly it had been Cloud. Theories had rattled around between the four of them, but away from the kiddos—at night and after a few rounds in Reno’s sheets—Cloud would ask him if they were sure all of Hojo’s labs had been found and destroyed. Before Advent Day, Reno would’ve said ‘yes’, but afterwards he wasn’t sure and so he’d brought the question up with Rufus and Tseng and they’d begun searching. Deepground had been a violent wake up call. Not that Reno knew a damn thing of what had happened between Vincent and the Tsviets, but the simple existence of the place had been enough to unsettle the last of the Turks and Avalanche. They had just begun to make plans to do thorough searches when the first lifetime had reset; the second lifetime had reset soon after Advent Day.

“Reno!” He startles out of his thoughts, suddenly jarred away from his memories and he leans back slightly so his eyes don’t cross as he tries to focus on the three sets of worried eyes as Sephiroth, Genesis and Angeal all hover around him. “You were far away, are you alright?”

Angeal is the one asking him, but Sephiroth’s head is tilted in a slightly worried manner, and Genesis’ perfectly sculpted brows are furrowed as he pouts and their eyes are all screaming their concerns at him.

“I just got lost thinking of some things.” Reno answers honestly; he’s made the promise to himself to be as honest as he possibly can with these three, and this isn’t the full truth but still true all-the-same. “I’m sorry, yo.”

“Don’t be.” Sephiroth shifts into a more relaxed stance, and moves his long ponytail away from his shoulder as he stands up straight. “We worried because you didn’t answer us.”

“We thought you’d like to spar.” Genesis leans in then, reaching forward over Reno’s shoulder to fiddle with his long ponytail. “You’ve been restless.”

“You’re not my type, yo, sorry.” He gently bats at Genesis’ hands, leaning back and shifting away from the flamboyant Red Mage of Shinra. The three before him are pretty, handsome and attractive but not his type and he knows from his third lifetime what they like, and it’s not his wild nature—Angeal is also _straight_ but whatever, not the point.

“That…” Genesis begins, flustered and slowly turning red as the other two chuckle softly. “Noted. But not what I meant.”

“You have been far away from us since around the time of the Winter Solstice, Reno. It was just small moments at first, like you would be trying to remember a dream that escaped you come daylight, but in the past month they’ve been growing longer and longer. If you sit without anything to do, you drift away and we are simply worried.” Sephiroth is the one to speak, and if he wasn’t used to Cloud’s or Rude’s oddly placed moments of verbosity, the softly given soliloquy would have him floored. “We simply worry when someone as wild as you seems to… still.”

He can’t resist letting out a chuckle. Elena had cornered him once, in the second lifetime, over him being still and asking if he was ok—back then it had been Cloud’s quiet doing. Humming, he shifts and nods at the three before him. “I’ve just a lot of responsibilities right now, and I’ve been thinking of the best way to manage them all. I’m sorry for causing worry, yo.”

“If you need help, we _will_ assist you.” Angeal says softly, and he knows it’s a promise from his tone. Some days, when the man is like this, Reno can forgive him for the damage a past life did to Zack… shaking his head, clearing his thoughts, he nods at them and moves to stand.

“I’m more than up for a spar, yo. But what teams? Or free-for-all?” He asks as he shifts his magrod from his belt and walks out to the sparing area. He’s no First, but he’s no normal human either and he has three lifetimes worth of memories, fighting styles and skills, and an in-shape body capable of using and utilizing every last one of them. He’d also picked up all his tools and weapons from the Shinra armory that he’d used in his second lifetime—this was going to be fun.

“You and I vs Angeal and Genesis.” Sephiroth’s smooth baritone sounds from next to him, and he allows his mischievous and evil smile to cross over his face at the pairing. Sephiroth shifts next to him as he adjusts his gear, and he can’t help but lean slightly sideways to look up at the taller man before smirking. “I thought we could give the pyromaniac a run for his money.” Sephiroth whispers into his ear, and he can’t resist the cackle that escapes his lips as Sephiroth shows him what he means by shifting his wrist to jangle his bracer with a mastered Lightning materia.

“My idea, _exactly_ , yo.” Reno whispers back as he shows off his floating electro-mine. His second lifetime is how he is _now_ , a little meaner, stronger and more _shocking._ He lets his oddly colored eyes glitter, watching Sephiroth’s eyes dilate in dark surprise and mischievous amusement. “Shall we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Reno; I’ve loved him for decades now—dear Goddess I’m old—and so doing this chapter was like an ode to this redhead Turk. I’d like to give a note on appearance, I’m not sure if anyone is picturing Advent Children (I’ve only seen Complete, but same thing) or if people are picturing Remake, but both are technically correct. As he is in this fourth (and the third) lifetime, I’m picturing Remake for his gorgeousness; this means his hair, eyes, clothes and darker/more serious personality. It’s not that he doesn’t still goof off, but when choosing between his memories and how to present himself now, he likes the sharper and more mature style—to reflect his mental age over his physical.
> 
> \- This also applies to Rude, his clothing is Remake over ACC, less for appearance or making sense of his own mind and more with what has become most common (3 lifetimes out of 4). 
> 
> Again, I hope everyone is well and safe. Take care and be careful!


	17. Ocean Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He doesn’t want to be doing this, going up against a Turk because no one in Sector 5 has a backbone to just talk to the man. He knows this is going to end badly. His waking nightmares aren’t helping matters either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter comes from “Ocean Eyes” by Billie Eilish; as I was writing this chapter I had one playlist on play and I decided to hit shuffle, and this song played about halfway through writing and it just so perfectly aligned with what I was kind of playing around with, so: enjoy. 
> 
> Also: this was nice to write, if a bit painful. It’s a slightly different style to my normal, but not by too much and it also served for the POV. 
> 
> CW: This chapter features gossip, rumors, opinions as well as other negative and derogatory thoughts and beliefs of nameless side characters concerning main characters (but these thoughts are not shared by the POV character). There is also a brief mention of derogatory thoughts concerning Wutai/Wutains (this isn’t held by me, or the POV), the war had been fueled by propaganda, and while no excuse (irl or in-game/fic) the common citizen of Midgar really knows nothing else. 
> 
> Please read with caution, take care of yourselves and be safe my lovelies.
> 
> PS: I have now napped and have fixed the typos, etc mistakes.

It’s been about six months or so since Cloud Strife moved to the metropolis that is the city of Midgar, about five months of those sixth have involved the kid running errands and helping out around the Leaf House Orphanage, and of those five months, it was only within the last three that the kid had begun to visit the kids living at the orphanage, but within those last three, only within the last _month_ has he been actively _playing_ with the kids. Cloud was a quiet kid, taciturn and made up of very few syllables—or, he _had_ been, until the day he had appeared at the orphanage with repaired and mended clothing for the kids. With him, two older boys had visited that day: one preteen with russet red curls and pale skin, and a young teenager with dark brown or light black curls and lightly tanned skin. Cloud had introduced the boys as brothers, and while no one at the orphanage had openly questioned it to the blonde boy, many had doubted his word that the two others with him could be related. It wasn’t even like it was odd for a family to produce good genetics and turn out more than one pretty boy, but the two boys barely looked alike while also being beauty incarnate.

Soon after Cloud had introduced the siblings—Andrea and Jules Rhodea, apparently—Cloud and the siblings had returned to the orphanage with another kid in tow. At first, some of the minders and teachers at the Leaf House had sworn the ash blonde boy was simply a tag-a-long, as he was far too loud and hyper to truly make any of them believe the quiet Cloud would tolerate any such behavior or noise for an extended period of time—not that anyone had yet to voice these opinions. But, to the shock and awe of all, the ash blonde boy with the slight pompadour-mullet crossover hairstyle was quite capable of not only being still and quiet, but he could also bring out a playful side in Cloud that resulted in the two of them running around and playing with some of the younger orphans. Mostly, Cloud and Roche—the hyperactive boy’s name—paid attention to the quiet and recluse but street tough Leslie Kyle; something that one of the minders had made a mistake of voicing their belief for Cloud and Roche to not bother, which had resulted in the russet colored redhead losing his temper and telling the minder to—ironically—‘ _mind their own damn business’._

After that, everyone _had_ ; they all stared and watched in shocked awe over the way Cloud could go from cold and unfeeling to running around the area between the community center and the orphanage like the child he actually was. Most days, Jules would run the orphans through stretches and light exercises before allowing them to run around and play. Some days, Cloud and Roche would practice swordplay and would teach forms to the interested children. Others still would be split between Andrea deigning to come off his arrogant tower to teach basic dance steps and Roche teaching the mechanical minded children how to take apart and care for different types of vehicles. 

If Cloud wasn’t such a good merc and delivery boy, the minders and keepers of the orphanage would’ve asked the other boys to leave and not return, from rumors of Andrea being a Turk in training, and from the other two being near perfect poster boys for Shinra propaganda. But the more level headed people of the orphanage knew not to be rash, to make such a statement, to listen to such baseless gossip, and most importantly: not to piss off Cloud Strife. And so, nothing was said to any of the four boys, and every weekend they would come to visit, playing or teaching the kids whatever they seemed currently in the mood to cover.

However, after two weeks of Roche appearing at Cloud’s side, the boys gained a watcher: a Turk that would sit up on a slightly distanced rooftop and watch the four boys play with the orphans. No one had been able to clearly make out the Turk at first, but then one day a second had joined the first and the minders had all known who was watching them: Reno and Rude. None of the minders truly minded Rude, as he was often seen walking the path back to the Gainsborough house—though no one knew _why_ —and besides, the quiet and bald Turk would sometimes stop by with a donation in hand or could sometimes be found feeding the different birds that sometimes visited the orphanage and winding path to Miss Aerith’s. Reno, however, was an absolute wretch and filthy _menace_ that no one wanted near them or the children, and _especially_ not their precious merc. Reno was a fellow slum rat, but not from Sector 5, 7 or 8; the redhead Turk wasn’t even an ex-Sector 6 alumni, he was from Sector 3 and even from the gang riddled and trouble filled slum, Reno was widely known as being the _worst of the worst_. Another factor against him was the fact he wasn’t even a native _to_ Midgar, and no one knew just where he was from. Some rumors said he was like Tseng—another filthy Wutain—while others spoke of the possibility that he was a native to Cosmo Canyon, due to his odd eye color, his unnatural speed and climbing skills, and most importantly: his damn and weird tattoos—if they even _were_ tattoos—in the same vibrant red as his hair that rested just slightly under his eyes.

It was with all this information, this knowledge bank of gossip, rumors, opinions and having visibly seen some of the incidents and also having met the young merc, that _he_ was being commissioned and sent out by a personal request directly from the Leaf House Housemother to Wymer and the Sector 7 Watch to travel over to Sector 5, as soon as he possibly could, and to deal with the redheaded Turk. He’d argued against it, not being one to gossip about people, and being of the type to refuse to look at only the bad in a person’s history, as well as only being _nineteen_ that he wasn’t the right person to ask for this. Unfortunately for him, he’d been out reasoned and had even been reminded that no one actually knew Reno’s exact age—theories again ranged wildly, from possibly being as young as eighteen to as old as twenty-eight—and that if _he_ didn’t take this request that he could be replaced.

And so, here he was, sneaking as quietly as physically possible across the Sector 5 rooftops over to sneak up on a Turk. He was _so_ not equipped to fight the redheaded man, and he hoped that just simply threatening the man to leave Sector 5, or at least the orphanage alone, would be enough. He wasn’t the type to kill, no matter what life he’s led, and no matter who the redhead was or even what he represented—to Midgar as a Shinra lackey, or even to himself as a personal living nightmare—this is not a confrontation he looks forward to. But orders are orders, money is money, and _besides_ , the Turk’s recurring presence _was_ beginning to unnerve the locals. 

Taking one last breath, he turned off the safety and readied his gun before sneaking across the last rooftop to stand behind the Turk, moving perfectly and smoothly as the other man lifted a bottle of some kind of drink to his lips only to be cut off by the barrel of his gun being pressed to the back of the Turk’s head. He didn’t like this, didn’t like the bile wanting to boil and sour in his stomach, or the bout of PTSD that wanted to rocket up his spine to his brain as he relives flashes of this very man committing atrocious acts and being the very weapon that was utilized to kill nearly 500,000 people in one fell swoop. His hands shook, but he couldn’t back away from this; all the job assignment called for after all was for him to scare the man from hanging around the orphanage anymore.

“Do you know what you’re doing, yo?” The voice shouldn’t be familiar, but it _is_ , and he wants to hate it but he really can’t. He’s tired of the hatred. Still, this is a job and this is a Turk that he has at gunpoint so he has to finish this job, no other option is available to him right now, but _damn it_ if he’s going to make a repeat of this.

“I know that what _you’ve_ been doing has unnerved the locals enough that they commissioned me to get you to scram.” He keeps his voice even, keeping out the rage, the anger and the trauma he feels seeing this mop of red hair and hearing this voice again. It’s not filtered through a radio or a helicopter speaker this time, but it’s still enough to rattle his nightmares into the light of day.

“I’m on mission. Guard and watch duty, yo.” He sighs at the words, knowing that if he goes and tells that to the minders that they really will never let this go, and that whoever Reno has been set to watch will likely be banned. Still, he wants to know the answer to those questions for himself.

“And just _who_ is your charge?” He asks, as he adjusts his stance slightly on the tin roof to better steady his footing.

“Cloud Strife.” At Reno’s answer he cusses; looks like none of the rumors, gossip or theories were right then. _Shit_. “Don’t see what it’ll matter to you, yo!”

It all happens too fast for him to really register, but one minute he has his gun pressed to the back of Reno’s head, and the next he’s been kicked backwards into the wall of a slightly taller building and Reno is rushing him with his magrod charged and ready for a fight. “ _Shit.”_ What he does next is _not_ running away, it’s a strategic retreat, and he makes certain to keep his footing as he slides sideways down onto another roof and jumps over a gap as Reno takes off after him. The air over the rooftops is charged with Reno’s electro-mines and electricity, and he’s sure he’s hit his mark in shooting the Turk _at least_ twice. But he doesn’t stop to check as he races over the rooftops and climbs the wall of debris that separates the sectors and begins to fight backwards as he attempts to block Reno’s kicks and that damned magrod. He’s not sure if he’ll plummet to his death from this height, but he is sure that his corpse would drop like a rock if Reno kills him and then he falls off, and he suddenly really hates Wymer for threatening his paycheck with this.

It’s also _just his luck_ when it starts to rain from the regulated sprinkler system that imitates the above-plate weather, and instead of fighting and blocking the fucking electricmaniac’s attacks, he jumps from the debris wall down onto the top of the collapsed expressway before taking off towards Sector 7. He’s not so much aiming for the slums or the Undercity, and more so focused on reaching either the train station or the garage where he keeps his motorcycle with the goal of hitting the inter-plate roads.

“Where you running to, yo?” Reno’s voice is still behind him, still a bit too close for comfort and also full of menace and anger. He hates it even _more_ now, with that tone being so much closer to his nightmares and he’s not ready to die—not _again_ and not so _young_. “I’m _talking_ to you! _”_

His luck finally runs out as he hits an extra large gap in the expressway and Reno finally catches up to him, and he barely has the time to turn on his heel and block a kick with his arms before the redhead spins and roundhouse kicks him flat on his back as his gun gets knocked from his hands. In an instant, he’s pinned by the redhead and the charged magrod is being held inches from his neck even as he braces his arms up in an effort to keep the weapon from shocking and frying his wet skin. This has been his first time fighting the wild Turk, and it will probably be his last, but he won’t break down and cry over it. He _can’t._

“Why did you pull a gun on me, yo?” Reno’s eyes flicker and glow unnaturally, not exactly like the mako fueled eyes of a SOLDIER, but still just as eerie.

“Job request for the Watch. You’ve been unnerving the orphanage minders all month.” It takes a lot more of his strength to hold the man back than he’d have previously thought, considering how slim framed the other is compared to his own broader build, but he doesn’t stay focused on it—he can’t _afford_ to focus on it.

“And no one could’ve just _said_ that?” Reno sneers, and he can’t fault the man’s disgusted and angry look. “Why pull a gun on me, yo?”

“You are aware of your _rep_ right?” He questions back, shifting his legs and hips to try to displace the slimmer man from having his knee in his stomach and jamming up into his ribs; it works, to the redhead’s surprise, and now Reno’s just straddling his waist which is odd, but he can breathe now and in his shock at being displaced, he’s removed the magrod and it disappears somewhere into the man’s suit. He probably _shouldn’t_ relax, but he can’t help taking the chance to sigh and deflate.

“If you know my rep, yo, then you really should’ve just _talked_ to me.” Reno huffs out, and he groans out a sigh. They're both soaked from the sprinkler system that imitates rain actually working for once, and water is beading over the exposed bare skin of the redhead’s chest, a look that’s only being compounded as the spikes of his hair are beginning to droop and make him look so terribly _young_ as his seafoam and ocean blue eyes turn from a dangerous darkness into a pout. “I mean no harm, I’m just checking on Strife, yo.”

He wants to scoff at the sentiment, of any Turk meaning ‘no harm’, but coming from _this_ Turk in particular is a laugh riot. 

Ask him later, if he was in his right mind when he finally broke under all the stress and his temper finally snapping, and he’ll sincerely be able to claim that he truly and rightly has no fucking _clue_ what he was thinking when he opened his mouth to retort and snap at the redhead. But he did all the same. 

“You meaning _‘no harm’_ is bullshit after what you did to nearly 500,000 innocent people when you dropped the Sector 7 Plate, _yo.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you know who it is, I’m open for guesses in the comments. I also fell in love with this person only just recently and I’m happy to be on the “this character is a badass hottie” fan train. I hope others join me (or are already onboard). 
> 
> Also also: this took me kind of all night to write, as I’m not the best at fighting/chase scenes so I hope it reads well and clearly. If not then... idk. I tried and this is what I finally accepted as my best.


	18. Burning Cities and Napalm Skies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He knows it’s foolish to be attracted to the Turk, and he had never intended for it to happen—one never plans these things, after all—but it has happened and he doesn’t need his best friend to tell him exactly how dumb and pointless his crush is. He knows this. Truly, he swears he knows this can only end badly... It ended badly. By Gaia did it end badly, and thankfully without too much damage to his heart; but now he’s here and things have changed and this new lifetime is just a tad bit strange. 
> 
> ——
> 
> Meanwhile, Cloud is aware that he lost his temper but between Marle and Miss Aurum, the damage is slightly mitigated and the kids of the Leaf House Orphanage are truly none-the-wiser as a few things shift and Aerith decides to intervene and help manage the fallout.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a companion one-shot to “Broken Remnants”, chapter seventeen: Ocean Eyes; as this first part was going to be the beginning scene of chapter eighteen, but the more I thought about it, I decided that this would work better as a one-shot of the POV character’s memories. Now though, I’ve changed my mind and I’ve put it back as the beginning to chapter eighteen. Ugh, I’m sorry for being indecisive and weird over this chapter. It just wants to be odd.
> 
> CW/TW: The opening scene of this chapter includes all those new tags, from angst and depression, spoilers alluding to the end of Crisis Core (though it is not blatantly stated), bad coping skills, attempted murder and murder in defense of another. This scene is more akin to in-game Shinra vs others, as a misunderstanding occurs between Shinra infantry, Reno (and our mystery POV from last chapter) as Reno is defended with an expertly aimed kill-shot. 
> 
> Note: This first scene is also a flashback/memory. To be clear, it aligns perfectly with Remake, which is evidenced by the last line of the flashback.
> 
> CW 2: Foul language is present in this chapter.  
> CW 3: Adults being dumb and children suffering for their stupidity.

_“You realize you’re crushing on a_ **_Turk_** _, bro?” His best friend questions quietly of him, though it sounds more like a statement than anything else._

 _“I’m fully aware of this,_ **_yes_** _._ _” He replies in hushed exasperation. He is fully aware that his crush on the Turk is foolhardy and ridiculous; for starters, the man is a_ **_Turk_ ** _that works for_ **_Shinra_** _, there’s no real way he could ever approach the other man naturally, and he truly doesn’t have a clue what he would even begin to say to the lithe and deadly electromaniac. He’s never fought the man personally, but he’s seen people attempt and fail. Also, they’re_ **_enemies_** _. Plus—and_ **_most importantly_** _—Barrett would absolutely_ **_kill_ ** _him._

 _“Barrett would_ **_kill you_** _, bro.” He sighs as his friend states the utmost obvious of his internal reasonings over why his crush is so terribly ill-advised. He_ **_knows_** _. By Gaia, he_ _knows._

 _  
__It wasn’t like he had run into the Turk by_ _choice._ _He’d been out above plate a few months back in Sector 8 as he waited for Jessie to finish auditioning at Loveless Theatre, when the man had stumbled from Sector 0 looking like an absolute_ **_mess_** _. His hair was tangled and looked as if he’d been running his hands through it nonstop for_ **_hours_ ** _on end, a pair of goggles were hanging around his neck and he’d been stripping off the telltale pitch black suit jacket that designated him as a Turk. He had watched the man as he stormed and paced in place for several minutes before turning and sending a roundhouse kick to the large fountain in the square, breaking it and causing the waterspout to go a bit haywire and gush water out of the broken faucet that seemed to express whatever inner turmoil was raging through the distraught man. In no time at all, the water had kicked up again and had begun to simulate rain over the sector, and like some type of precursor,_ **_actual_ ** _rain had begun to fall. A few minutes later, infantrymen were pouring into the square, surrounding the Turk and yelling at him over the destruction of Shinra property. The next few minutes had happened in a blur, but for one split second, the man had turned and bright seafoam green and ocean blue eyes had turned and locked onto his own before a sharp order had escaped the other ordering him to_ **_scram_** _._

 _He had, but not too far away. He had ended up on the third floor balcony of Loveless Theatre, leaning against the railing with Jessie as they watched the man—a gorgeous redhead with matching red tattoos under his stunning and tempest colored eyes—yell and argue with the platoon leader for several minutes before the Turk had finally yelled and whipped out a magrod from somewhere in his suit jacket before throwing the garment onto a nearby picnic table, opened up some type of floating electro-mine, and began to completely and thoroughly_ **_trash_ ** _the platoon of infantrymen. One of them—or even another gawking citizen—must have called in to report the fight or for reinforcements, but suddenly a squad of elite infantrymen had swarmed the Turk and the man had been nearly overrun._

_He’s still not sure which of them had reacted first—him or Jessie—but suddenly Jessie was yelling ‘look out below’ before lobbing a grenade into the crowd of Shinra scum, and he had shifted around the square across the connected balconies to get a good clean shot of the elite commander that had managed to get the Turk pinned—possibly by breaking the other’s shoulder blade—with the muzzle of his rifle to the back of the Turk’s head and about to shoot, when he had fired and put a bullet perfectly in the unprotected area of the man’s neck._

_It had been timed perfectly to the arrival of two other Turks: a tall and bald, dark skinned man with earrings filling his ears, and a long haired man that looked distinctly Wutain—Rude and Tseng, which meant they’d just helped rescue_ ** _Reno_** _._ _With the appearance of the other Turks, they had ducked into the buildings and disappeared as they ran back to the train station, taking back streets to not be seen or followed._

_They hadn’t told Barrett of what they did, and he’d only spoken of it to his best friend after he’d randomly run into the redhead a few times around the city on errands and his friend had caught his interested look towards the healing and hurting Turk._

_“Bro, I’m just_ **_saying_** _: we’re on different sides of this. I know you don’t find interest in people easily, but…_ **_Reno_ ** _is_ **_bad news_** _. He’s not just the enemy, or a simple_ **_Turk_** _, he’s_ **_second-in-command_ ** _of the Turks. He’s the Underboss. He’s also_ **_deadly_** _. And, in the past several months, he’s gotten an even_ **_worse_ ** _rep. I don’t want you getting hurt, bro.” His best friend says to him in a hushed voice full of wariness and concern, providing him with extra information that only makes his hopeless circumstances oh-so-much-_ ** _worse_** _._

_“Too late, bro.” He sighs as he shakes his head and shifts. He’s sure his friend is about to say something more on the matter, but their solitude is cut off by the sounds of steps on the steel flooring of the Watch’s HQ._

_“Huh, didn’t know_ **_you_ ** _were holding down the fort.”_

* * *

He sighs as he leans back against the smooth and slightly chilled shower tiles as he stands under the warm spray of the deluxe shower head that Reno offered him in lieu of an apology after they’d moved from below plate in the simulated rain and out to the above plate reality of a real life downpour to get even further and more completely drenched. He’d kept quiet as he followed the redhead to the Shinra residential housing district in Sector 3—which if that rumor is true, it’s ironic for the redhead to still live in the same sector.

He’s been in the shower for the last several minutes now, had taken the offered change of warm clothes and towels before stepping inside and being amazed at the sheer amount of space within the bathroom. Perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised at it all, but he’d never _lived_ above plate, he’d only ever visited and besides, Jessie’s folks were only lower level employees. 

Shaking his head of a past that may never repeat, he steps from the shower to dry off and dress in the borrowed clothing. The entire bundle is solid black, and he can’t help but wonder if the Turk’s only spots of color are his hair, eyes and the mandatory white button down of his uniform shirt—not that he _wears_ it properly. The pants he’s been given are a bit big, fitting low on his hips and loose around his legs, with a spot of seafoam green in the drawstring—and ok _maybe_ the Turk owns colors. The t-shirt is much the same, a little large on his frame and hangs loosely but comfortably. They’re definitely either pajamas or lounge clothes, and the insight into the man’s mind is odd, settingly weirdly into the recesses of his own mind.

Stepping out of the bathroom, he turns right towards the front of the house and follows the soft sound of music playing. He lingers in the doorway of the living room, watching the way that the Turk’s red hair spills out over his shoulders, free of the ponytail and studies the way he’s cleaning and looking over Biggs’ gun. A cleaning kit is out on the table, and the gun is fully taken apart as the other concentrates. Distantly, he can hear a washer going, and he hopes that means his clothes are being cleaned free of the dirt and muck that they tramped through to get here. His eyes hover over the slimmer man, taking in the appearance of another pair of black sweatpants and how they’re paired with a seafoam green t-shirt and both are as baggy as the borrowed set he’s currently wearing. As he watches the Turk, he crosses his arms over his chest and studies the sure and precise movements. They are interesting to watch, seeing such focus set on his own meager weapon when he’s sure the other has held or even possibly owns a far grander or more elegant gun. And yet, there is no rush in the movements; it’s almost like his own state of being when he’s working on upgrading the cores of materia enhanced weapons.

“You going to keep standing and staring, yo?” The sudden break in the quiet that comes from the question startles him from his thoughts, and he finally moves to sit on the floor at the far side of the coffee table, slightly away from the other. He doesn’t trust this man, and despite whatever once was, whatever thoughts and feelings he’d once entertained, he can’t allow such things to pull him under ever again. Not when he’s just waiting for Barrett to appear again and form Avalanche. Wedge’s warnings echo in his mind, and he’s missing his friend as he has yet to find him within the walls of Midgar, and Jessie is currently acting at the Golden Saucer Theatre, so he’s alone but he has his memories and all the warnings that come with them. “You going to talk to me? Or have you said all you needed saying?”

He simply blinks in response to the question, not deigning to give this man an answer, and also not trusting himself to not say something else damning or absolutely insane. He already fucked up once by speaking of something that _obviously_ hasn’t happened yet—hopefully it _never_ will.

“Hn. Silence huh? Fine by me, yo.” He watches as the Turk shifts slightly and long straight strands fall down over his shoulder to brush and shift against the table top. A traitorous part of him wonders if the strands are as silly smooth as they look, and he has to push back the fleeting fancy of reaching out across the space between them to push the long strands away from the other’s face so he’s not obscured from Biggs’ view. He does nothing however, refusing to follow either impulse, and instead reaches up to pull a red decorative pillow from the couch and holds onto it to keep his hands occupied. “You mentioned me dropping the Sector 7 Plate, yeah?” The words come from the redhead, and he flinches at the question. There’s a dark tone to the other’s voice, and his eyes have darkened dangerously enough to set Biggs’ nerves on edge.

“Ignore what I said. Forget it.” He utters, hiding his face away from the surprised noise the Turk makes by turning and burying his face in the man’s pillow.

“Nuh uh, no can do.” The redhead’s voice is low, a bit deeper and far huskier than he expected it to be. He’s heard it to varying degrees of being hurt, annoyed, wary and angry, but this new relaxed tone is so different and he resolutely refuses to acknowledge the way it makes his chest ache and cheeks burn. “You know of something that hasn’t happened, and yet I can tell from the pain in your eyes, the way you jerk and twitch away from me, that you truly believe it. The tension to your shoulders and the set of your jaw speaks to the realities of the trauma, the PTSD of it all. I’m not going to ignore that, yo. I _can’t.”_

He slowly turns his head to look at the other man, listening intently despite his efforts to ignore, and tilts his head in a silent plea for the other to continue speaking.

“I remember it too, yo.” The redhead sighs then, his hands stilling at their work, and Biggs watches the way those slender shoulders lower into a guilty sulk. “Sometimes, in my nightmares, I relive it. Over and over again.” The other sighs, looking briefly at his hands, as if he can see the metaphorical—and literal—blood on them even now; and Biggs can’t stop the feeling that the other _can_ in fact do just that. “I apologized to survivors for it. Cloud Strife, Tifa Lockhart and Barrett Wallace; not… all of them forgave me at first. Barrett broke my jaw and Tifa broke my ribs in response to my first apology.”

“Cloud didn’t?” He wants to stop talking, and he wants this to be the Turk lying, but he hasn’t told the other his own name, and besides, Barrett and Tifa don’t even live in Midgar just yet.

“Cloud nursed me back to health and then asked for another rematch.” The other’s hands begin to move again, cleaning and repairing Biggs’ water drenched pistol, something he is secretly grateful for but refuses to say out loud. “He was the first to forgive me, and the one that got me to forgive myself. That friendship, the memory of it, is why I’ve been checking up on the kiddo of _this_ lifetime. Make sure he’s safe and healthy, living life as a kid.”

It’s quiet after that, the truth and the explanation, and he stays silent as he watches the Turk work. Eventually, the other’s voice breaks through the quiet once more.

“I’m sorry, for dropping the plate. For… _everything_ I did that night. I know it means nothing now, but I do _truly_ mean it.” Those seafoam green and ocean blue eyes meet his own again, and he’s reminded of the moment when he’d first met this man, of the pain in his tempest eyes that had made him shoot and kill in order to save his life. This close and he can truly see the odd way in which those eyes glimmer and glitter with something a little ethereal, it is entrancing and he can’t resist wondering if it’s possibly a low dose of mako exposure.

“I believe you.” He begins, waiting until those eyes lift to his once more, before continuing, “Forgiveness will take time, though.”

“I can handle that, yo.” The redhead says as he gives Biggs a small smile before shifting in place to change how he’s sitting and returns to focusing on repairing Biggs’ destroyed pistol. He’s beginning to doubt that the thing will ever recover, but he also knows without it that he’s royally screwed, so he shifts to begin assisting the Turk with more actively working on the restoration of his very much loved, but second-hand gun.

* * *

* * *

Cloud honestly wasn’t expecting his day to go like this; he had planned to visit Aerith today after finally gathering up his courage to do so, and she was nowhere at the Leaf House with him, standing next to him and nearly shoulder-to-shoulder with Andrea as the three of them glared up at the Housemother and a few teachers of the orphanage in thinly held and fully on display anger.

The day had started off normally, with he, Andrea and Jules all waking up early to do a few extra errands around Sector 7 before heading over to Sector 8 to pick up Roche and say their hellos to Miss Aurum. **All of that had gone to plan**. Their next destination had been the Leaf House, with plans to give more of the kids a dance lesson—something Cloud had even agreed to participate in, which delighted Andrea to _no end._ **Once again, that had gone to plan—** _mostly._

Cloud had been shaking his head at Roche and Merle lightly teasing Leslie when the sudden shine of metal caught just right on the artificial sun lamps and he’d turned his head in full alert to see Reno once again perched on a slightly distant rooftop… and Biggs standing over the Turk with a gun pressed to the back of the redhead’s head. In an instant he had yelled, but it was drowned out by the sound of the gun going off and people screaming in alarm as Reno began to fight Biggs, and as Biggs took off away from the orphanage over the rooftops towards the collapsed expressway. He’d holstered his Junior Buster onto his harness and had been preparing to run after the two, with Andrea at his side, when the Housemother and the doctor had grabbed them.

“Don’t, Biggs can handle himself against a single, _lowly_ Turk.” Housemother spoke softly, but solidly as she held tightly to Cloud’s shirt and shoulder, keeping him still and in place even as his unenhanced eyes fought and strained to keep up with the blurring figures of Reno and Biggs as they fought. Sounds of gunshots echoed off all the tin in the sector, making the sound seem loud and as if the bullet was ricocheting around inside of a metal bucket. When Biggs jumped off the debris wall onto the roof of the collapsed expressway, and he finally lost complete sight of Reno’s bright red hair, he had turned and shoved at the woman holding him.

“Reno isn’t just a _TURK_! He’s second-in-command!” Cloud raged as he once again moved to run after the two men before being grabbed again, this time by one of the other minders—the man that Jules had cussed out the week before, actually—but before Cloud had time to twist away from him, Andrea had moved and punched the man flat on his ass in a sprawl on the ground.

“ _Don’t_ ever grab him again.” Andrea’s voice was low, deadly and promising pain to anyone that disobeyed him. Before anyone else could move or yell, however, a soft voice had cut through the staticky din in Cloud’s mind and completely severed the high wired tension in the air.

“What is going on here?” Aerith’s voice was soft and soothing, but stern. As well as more than welcomed. 

Which is how they’d gotten _here_ , with Cloud, Andrea and Aerith waiting with crossed arms for the Housemother to explain how and why Biggs was apparently set on Reno. Or, well… in reality they were _actually_ waiting with Jules, Roche and the other kids inside of Leaf House as Miss Aurum and Marle got the answers for what was going on.

It’s still tense in the room, as the kids are all scared and alarmed over the gunshots and fighting, and without even Aerith calm enough to soothe their worries, light sobbing has started up. It pulls them from their thoughts though, and Cloud is up and comforting a group of kids first. Soon followed by Aerith as she calms and falls into her natural and soothing warmth even as Andrea moves to where Jules and Roche are with Leslie and Merle, the four boys now trying to coax the scared little girl out from under a pillow fort behind a few desks.

It’s perhaps an hour or two, with Cloud’s anxiety spiked sky high with worry that one of the two men will kill the other—or both—that the doors to the playroom open and Miss Aurum walks in followed by not only Marle but also Mrs. Gainsborough. The Housemother is hovering behind them, looking guilty and thoroughly chastised, but nothing is said as teachers and minders start to shuffle most of the kids off to other parts of the building to either nap or play outside. Eventually, seven kids remain in the room with their group and Cloud frowns as he can’t really register a pattern to who is left behind as he looks over the kids. There’s Merle and four girls left back in the room, two blondes, a ravenette and a dark skinned girl; and then there’s Leslie and one other boy with slightly dark sandy skin and warm brown eyes that has moved to hide behind Cloud. It takes a few more minutes, as Jules finally coaxes out Merle from her hiding space and in holding her while Roche stands slightly and protectively in front of Leslie, and the four girls have moved to hide and curl around and behind Andrea and Aerith as they peak out with wide and scared eyes, that Cloud _finally_ connects the dots to why these seven kids have been singled out like this: they’re all the kids that have taken to them and stay positively and absolutely _glued_ to their sides whenever they visit, cry when they leave and apparently talk about them non-stop until they return.

Andrea and Jules must catch on at just the same moment as he does, because he sees Jules’ eyes narrow as a sneer mars his pretty face and Andrea shifts to step forward with an angry growl noise in his throat when Aerith catches his wrist with one hand and holds him back, keeping her fellow teenager at her side. Again, her voice is one of reason, and calms the sudden tension in the air. “May I ask what is going on?”

“Well, this dumb bimbo bit...” Miss Aurum begins, and Roche snorts at his mom’s language before Mrs. Gainsborough cuts her off.

“The Housemother has expressed some wishes for what is _best_ for the orphanage.” Mrs. Gainsborough’s eyes are tense, and while Cloud has seen her angry before, it’s never been to this level, and has him shifting to slightly hide behind Andrea as well. Mental age making him older or not, Mrs. Gainsborough always _has been_ , and always _will be_ scary.

“Which _are_?” Andrea questions, low and dangerous, and the tone serves as a random but lovely reminder to what the teenager beside him once was. It should perhaps worry him, but it doesn’t, instead it soothes a part of his worry and he slightly relaxes from his tense posture.

“We do not wish for you to return.” The Housemother begins, and there’s a strict look in her eyes that makes Cloud immensely happy that this isn’t the same woman from his other lifetimes, as he might’ve done something incredibly stupid if that had been the case.

“She’s also being a bitch…” Miss Aurum is once again cut off, this time by Marle, and if the situation wasn’t so stressful, Cloud would’ve laughed at the fiery woman’s temper and language. As it is, only Roche lets out a chuckle at his mom’s habits, and shifts closer to their little group as he pulls Jules and their wards to them.

“The Housemother and some of the minders—not all—have decided that the children here will no longer be housed. As they are…” Marle looks at the Housemother with a withering look full of such disgust and hatred that he shifts closer behind Andrea and tugs on the back of the teenager’s shirt, shifting his own hiding kiddo between one of the little blondes and Leslie. “Too attached to the four of you.”

“Cowardly bitch!” Andrea goes to step forward again, his voice dipped low in anger, but Cloud grips his shirt tighter as Aerith once again grips his wrist and tugs him back into place. The kids are now beginning to sniffle and cry. Cloud hates this, hates how the people that started this incident can’t even own up to their own poor choices and bad mistakes, instead putting the blame of all this somehow on Cloud and his friends.

“Enough.” Marle doesn’t raise her voice, but it still has the desired effect to stop any other movements or words. “It has been decided by the three of us…” She pauses to gesture to Mrs. Gainsborough and Miss Aurum beside her, “That we will take in the kids until we can find them more stable lodging.”

“You’re making a mistake.” Aerith’s voice is quiet and cold, but still soft, and the combination is oddly jarring and even more terrifying than her mother’s glare. “You caused this incident by being rash and sending a citizen after a Turk by being too cowardly to speak to him. You could’ve spoken to me, or even to Rude, and we would’ve gladly handled this for you. You are very lucky my heart serves the orphans, or I would leave you to reap whatever damage you have sown with these actions. As it is, I will speak to Tseng to _not_ react to this incident and you better hope that neither Reno _or_ the man you sent after him are injured or _worse_ . You should know that while I hold _no love_ for Shinra, Reno and the Turks are my _family_ and I do not take the mistreatment of my family lightly.” Aerith stops then, and turns to pick up the smallest of the two blondes sitting at her feet, before turning back to face the Housemother. “I _will_ be arranging outings and field trips for the other orphans to visit their friends, and you _will not_ stop me. Do you understand?”

The elder woman nods then, a look of shock on her face at the fierceness within the normally sweet flower girl. Cloud holds no pity for the woman, however, and instead shifts from his hiding place behind Andrea. “Where are their things? We’re taking them with us.”

* * *

It takes about an hour to collect all of the childrens’ things, and they’ve moved to Aerith’s house to play with the frazzled kids while the three women talk inside and they wait for Tseng to arrive. Aerith had called the Turk as soon as they arrived at her home, and now it was just a matter of patience as they kept the kids entertained. Cloud still hasn’t caught any of the childrens’ names, but he’s been a bit preoccupied with calming down an angry and pacing Andrea.

“How fucking dare they?” Andrea is literally beginning to wear a slight rut in the ground where he has been pacing non-stop for the last several minutes, and Cloud would have found it endearing if he wasn’t just as angry. As it was, he can only watch the teenager as he storms and stews. “They created a situation where they put themselves, and others, in danger when they had no need to. Then, they go and blame _us_ when all we had sought to do was stop the fight. And, furthermore, what brand of _coward_ kicks out kids? It… it _pisses me off!_ ”

“I know Andrea, it angers me too…” He tries but stops as Andrea turns to level an angry glare at him.

“I just…” Andrea began again, only to suddenly sigh and deflate. “I don’t know where they’re going to go. I know what Marle, Miss Aurum and Mrs. Gainsborough said about lodging them, but we’re barely earning enough to feed ourselves. Marle only has so much room at the apartments, and she can’t keep letting people live rent free forever, while Miss Aurum is constantly busy with work. And this place is gorgeous but it doesn’t seem very big.”

“Your worries are the same as mine, Andrea. And while I don’t know what we will do, we’ll figure it out. You and Jules have gotten by before, as have I and Roche. We’ll figure this out and we’ll do it together.” He sighs as he steps towards the teen and allows himself to fall against the other’s chest, wrapping his arms around the longest love he’s ever known. They still have things to discuss, but they have time for that, all Cloud wants at this moment is to feel those strong and protective arms wrapped around him. He sighs and hums when they do, and he rests his head against the dancer’s chest; he’s missed this, so very much, and allows himself to relax within the sure and steady touch. 

He’s not sure how long they’ve been like that when the sounds of approaching footsteps brings his awareness back to his surroundings and he turns from Andrea to see Aerith standing there in a pretty light blue dress, matching spring boots, and a long navy blue, hooded sweater that slightly resembles a duster style trench coat. He hadn’t noticed her clothing back at the Leaf House, but looking at her now, he can’t help the way his mind overlays a distant memory of Zack to the flower girl before him.

“Tseng is here. He’s spoken to Reno, and reports that both he and the man sent to scare him away from the orphanage are safe.” Aerith smiles as she delivers the news, and Cloud sighs as the worry bleeds from him. He’s not had a lot of interactions with either Biggs or Reno in this lifetime, but to lose either would still rip apart his heart. “Tseng has an idea, by the way, and wishes to speak to you both. He also brought Rude and another Turk with him, her name is Cissnei, to help with the kids. They brought food too. Come along.”

Nodding, he follows after the older girl, and smiles when she shifts backwards to stand between him and Andrea before looping an elbow with Andrea and wrapping her other arm around his shoulders. The carefree action brings back so many memories that he can’t resist the chuckle that escapes him, and he’s just about to tease when the older girl once again speaks up.

“I’ve missed you two, you know?” Aerith says on a happily sounding hum, causing them both to stop walking as they look at her. She giggles again before tugging them back along down the path to her house from the high ledge. “I expected to meet you both upon your arrivals to Midgar, but neither of you visited me. I wasn’t expecting you two be so close in age this time, either, but I think this means it’ll work out better. No more long waits to be together. Oh! Please do tell me that I’ll get to see the two of you dance again though?”

“I… what if one of us, or both of us, had zero clue what you were talking about, Aerith?” He questions as he huffs and Andrea chuckles. 

“Oh pish posh!” Aerith replies as she lets her hands fall from them as they reach the porch of her house. “I can feel those touched by the Lifestream, and I wouldn’t have said a _word_ to either of you if you didn’t know. Now, come in and eat. Then we’ll talk to Tseng.”

* * *

* * *

He’s been drifting in and out of consciousness for some time now, when the jarring noise of Reno’s cell phone breaks through his peace, and he turns his gaze from the ceiling of the living room to look at Reno’s profile in question as the redhead picks up the call.

“Boss, what’s up?” Reno questions, and he hums curiously but doesn’t question as he stays quiet. This is a work call, and private besides, so it’s not his place to ask or be nosy but he still listens and studies Reno’s body language to make sure nothing has happened or that nothing is wrong. “Oh. No, I’m fine. I mean, yeah I did get shot, but I healed it. No no; the civie is fine. It was all a misunderstanding, Boss.”

He shifts slightly then, and sits up as he frowns and mouths in curious question, “I actually shot you?” He’s slightly impressed with himself at the confirming nod from the other, and tilts his head curiously as he tunes back into the one-sided conversation.

“What do you mean they kicked out a bunch of kids for being fond of visitors? That’s bullshit… I… yeah. I realize this was a setup to take care of the ‘trouble’. Still, where are seven newly homeless orphans going to go?” The topic of conversation has him frowning, and he rapidly pieces together just what the real job was: to get Andrea and Cloud, with their caring hearts, to react to a senseless fight and then cause enough of a scene to kick them and the fond of them children out of the Leaf House. He’d heard the Housemother’s gossip and theories concerning them all, after all. The knowledge that the old crone is due to have a heart attack soon—at least that’s what happened in his last lifetime—eases his anger a bit, but he’s still pissed off at the way he and Reno have been used as pawns. 

Moving from the couch, he slips and sits down next to the Turk, pressing his shoulder into the redhead’s lightly to offer solace and comfort through his sudden temper. Reno’s eyes snap to his, and after a few beats of them being full of a glittering darkness, he slowly lets out a breath and lightly nudges Biggs back.

“Yeah, I’m still here. What are we going to do about the kiddos?” Reno hums then, and Biggs can’t repress a chuckle at the sudden and high cackle that he lets out a second later. “Gotcha, Boss. Tell me when you need us and we’ll be there, yo.”

He waits for a few more minutes as a few work things are discussed, and to tune out the talk, he reaches across the table to fiddle with Reno’s magrod. There are a few tiny slots set with materia, and he allows a hum before he starts to search for the opening to the core to check it over. He’s pulled from his focus on it when he’s slightly nudged and blinking, he pulls his gaze away from the weapon to find those seafoam green and ocean blue eyes full of curiosity.

“Whatcha doing, yo?” Reno questions him, and the look on his face is so excitable that he has to force an embarrassed cough and look away before the ache in his chest turns to butterflies in his stomach at how unbelievably cute the redhead can be.

“Weapons that are designed with materia in mind are made with cores, there is always a main core that can be used to upgrade and improve your weapon, and sometimes there are sub-cores as well. They can be improved with use, the more you use the weapon, the skills set within, and the materia you slot to them, the more the weapon stores up this well of something like experience. Materia is made of mako, and so weapons set with materia have small mako cores, and since mako is a living thing it learns.” He explains, showing the other the core as he does, and hands over the magrod before continuing. “You have a lot of upgrades available, and if you concentrate you can apply them. Just, don’t use them against _me_ again, alright?”

Reno laughs then, and he curses himself for the way it makes his heart skip a beat. If his best friend could see him like this, Wedge would be lecturing him over his stupidity right about now and Jessie would just be a hopeless giggling mess. By Gaia he _misses_ them.

“I can do that, yo.” Reno replies, and he pulls his attention away from his friends to the slimmer man beside him. “Oh, never caught your name, by-the-way.”

“Name’s Biggs.” He introduces himself, and barely catches the other’s weapon when his hands jar and the core is nearly jostled and damaged with the action. His eyes widen when Reno’s eyes snap up to his face again, and he has to gently set the magrod on the table as silent tear streaks are making their way down the other’s face.

“You… you were on the pillar… Avalanche.” Biggs blinks as the redhead sobs and folds in on himself, and he only wavers in hesitation for a few seconds before he gently wraps his arms around the redhead and pulls his head to his chest. As Reno babbles out apologies in varying levels of coherency, he stretches out his legs to settle in for this bleeding of guilt and living nightmares, lifting his hand to run soothingly through the long red locks and simply holds the other as he cries. He can guess that Cloud must’ve told Reno about him, Jessie and Wedge, and for several minutes he fights back his own set of tears. Tears for his death, his missing friends, and the knowledge that Cloud thought of them all enough to talk about them. “I’m so _so_ sorry, yo.”

“I know, Reno. I know.” He soothes as he runs one hand soothingly up and down the other’s back while the other keeps carefully carding through the long and beautiful red locks.

“I… I fucked up so badly, yo.” Reno’s voice cracks, and he shifts his hands to rub and massage gently at the redhead’s throat. He wants to tell the slimmer man to hush, but he also knows how cathartic this could possibly be for him. So he keeps quiet and just offers comfort.

He’s not sure how long they stay like that, though he knows he shifted at some point to close the magrod’s casing back around the core, and he’s positive that he moved them to the Turk’s bedroom at some point to make the emotionally wrecked man sleep, but there’s a blur in his memories between that action and having fallen asleep beside him, with his own silent tears still streaming down his face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This song (“Ocean Eyes” by Billie Eilish) has officially become my personal theme song for this pairing. How did this happen?!
> 
> Note 1: Concerning the flashback/memory scene, the last line of this section aligns perfectly to Remake where Tifa is showing Cloud around Sector 7 after the first bombing mission and pulls him into Watch HQ.
> 
> Note 2: This is the longest chapter I have written for this fic (and I’m pretty the series as a whole), as it clocks in at just about 6,500+ words. 
> 
> Note 3: The ripples truly begin. 
> 
> Note 4: I’ve decided that I will attempt to find good (canon/official) pictures of the characters and cast (including the Honeybees), and put them with character fact sheets for this fic up on my tumblr. 
> 
> \- Tumblr url: https://nachtmaredoll.tumblr.com/
> 
> Note 5a: Ages (omg this is getting ridiculous; a spreadsheet may or may not exist at this point).  
> Note 5b: *designates an oc-character/fact. **designates named canon character.  
> Note 5c: Name spellings have been taken from the FF Wikia. Some reference for ages have also been taken from the FF Wikia (since ages have shifted in this lifetime, not all line up, but there is some effort to align people to set timeline or other character markers).
> 
> \- Vincent Valentine (exists; at least 40-50)  
> \- Lazard Deusericus 34  
> \- Fran Aurum* 30  
> \- Barret Wallace 26  
> \- Reeve Tuesti 26  
> \- Tseng 25  
> \- Cid Highwind 23  
> \- Sephiroth 22  
> \- Angeal Hewley 21  
> \- Rude 21  
> \- Genesis Rhapsodos 20  
> \- Reno 19  
> \- Biggs 19  
> \- Cissnei 17  
> \- Jessie Rasberry 17  
> \- Kunsel 16  
> \- Andrea Rhodea 15  
> \- Zack Fair 15 (lying says 16)  
> \- Aerith Gainsborough 15  
> \- Wedge 14  
> \- Rufus Shinra 13  
> \- Jules Rhodea 13  
> \- Cloud Strife 12  
> \- Tifa Lockhart 12  
> \- Elena 11  
> \- Scotch 11  
> \- Kotch 10  
> \- Roche (Aurum*) 10  
> \- Syd** 10  
> \- Gabrielle** 10  
> \- Leslie Kyle 9  
> \- Merle 8  
> \- Artemis** (sister w/Cel*) 8  
> \- Avaline** 7  
> \- Yuffie Kisaragi 7  
> \- Celeste** (sister w/Arti*) 5  
> \- Oates 2  
> \- Betty 0 (newborn)  
> \- Moggie 0 (newborn)  
> \- Sarah 0 (newborn)
> 
> PS: I hate myself rn; I WILL be making a spreadsheet after this. I’ve fried my brain with all this math omg. I’m NEVER doing an age update inside the fic/authors notes again. 😣


	19. Standing At The Crossroads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tseng’s plan for housing the children is finally discussed, and ripples begin to start.

Aerith is rarely one to get mad, and rarer still is for her to _stay_ that way, and yet what happened earlier in the day _still_ has her blood boiling as she sits out on the porch of her home and simply stares out at the flowers surrounding her favorite place in the Undercity of Midgar. Perhaps she is biased to say this place is her favorite, considering it is her _home_ , but this land is where she can hear the Lifestream and their Ancestors so very clearly. The Church is another place where the voices echo, but she’s long stopped living in the sanctuary when she decided to stop running from her Cetra heritage and her past.

Huffing, she fights to calm her still raging temper and opens her mind to her connection with the Lifestream and seeks out the lifeline of Reno through Gaia’s breathing earth. It doesn’t take long to find him, after being so familiar to his electricity for so many lifetimes, and despite the slightly rocky feeling to his soul, she can sense no injuries or wounds—beside mental ones, but those she can’t fix. Next to him, she can feel a strong and steady heartbeat, and with some tugging on the non-familiar soul, she settles at the identity that responds to her inquiry. Biggs; one of Cloud’s and Tifa’s friends and an original member of Avalanche. He’s also a teacher at Leaf House, now that she thinks on it, but she’s never really interacted with him too much. His soul feels like others’: touched by the Lifestream, and while that worries her as Reno’s feels the same, she currently feels that neither are in any danger and so she lets it lie.

Pulling away from her connection, she can suddenly hear the soft rustle of fabric on fabric, and the telltale shuffle that signals Cloud is behind her, not wanting to disturb her prayers but restless as he waits. Or, as he _attempts_ to wait for her. “Did you need me, Cloud?”

“I noticed you were still awake.” Cloud’s voice is soft, keeping quiet to not alert the sleeping Turks on the fold out futon and bedroll within the front room. They had intended to discuss Tseng’s idea for the kids, but after lunch the kids had still been restless and upset so they’d decided to just let them play instead. It had been odd to see Tseng with his long hair pulled into a topknot and without his suit jacket as he and Andrea trained in the small open area by her house, but it had been even odder when Rude had taken off his glasses and jacket to play with the kids. She had joined Jules and the two little blonde girls in making flower crowns, Cloud had allowed the other three girls to tackle him and ask him a million random questions, and Roche had taken to sparing with Leslie and the brunette boy as they covered basic defensive moves. It hadn’t been easy, but eventually all the kids were exhausted and after dinner had all easily passed out. The kids were all bunked in her room, while Cloud had settled next door with Roche and the Rhodea siblings. Rude and Tseng had decided to stay, just in case any further backlash from the massive fallout with the orphanage. But Miss Aurum and Marle had both returned to their homes, with promises to return in the morning to help plan accommodations for the children.

“Couldn’t sleep.” She hums as she lightly rocks back and forth on her step before shifting her dress and sweater so Cloud can sit next to her. “Why are you still up? Trying to run out on me again?” She teases him, and smiles as a small chuckle actually escapes him. It’s so cute and absolutely adorable to see Cloud a bit more relaxed and playful, and she can’t wait to see more of that.

“Wasn’t running, but nah, I couldn’t sleep.” Cloud shifts and a sigh escapes him before his lips turn down into his patently familiar pout. She can’t help but wonder if he knows how endearing the look is, but she’ll never ask it of him, knowing he’ll probably stop doing so if he were to know how the look came across to others. “Too pent up and angry over this.”

“Hmmm, same here.” She sighs as she sits and takes in the quiet of the night. If she’s still enough, she can hear Tseng’s light breathing as well as the shift of Rude’s weight in the futon as he rolls. There had been some light argument between the two, on who would get the futon vs the bedroll, but Tseng had eventually won by pointing out that Rude was taller than the bedroll was long and that had settled that. It’s the first time either Turk has ever stayed over in any of her lifetimes, but it feels so natural for them to be so close.

“Do you know what Tseng is thinking of for the kids?” Cloud’s voice asks suddenly, almost causing her to jump as she’d actually begun to forget he was beside her. The aborted snorting noise from the blonde tells her that he noticed her twitch, but she deigns to ignore his amusement and instead focus on his question.

“I’m thinking he’s going to find housing of some kind, possibly for another orphanage, but I’m not entirely sure. We didn’t really discuss anything other than my explanation on what happened.” She explains, and at Cloud’s sleepy sounding hum, she giggles and stands. “Come along now, we both need our sleep.”

She would be more surprised to see Cloud obey if she wasn’t so tired herself, but come morning, she may just need to tease him over it—oh who was she kidding? She was _totally_ going to tease him over it.

* * *

* * *

Biggs isn’t really surprised that he wakes up first between the two of them, and he’s honestly glad that he does, because it takes him a few minutes to realize that somehow in the night they both had moved and ending up _cuddling_ under the warmth of Reno’s black and white plaid flannel top sheet and the seafoam green and ocean blue comforter—and by Gaia, this man and his color schemes matching his own natural beauty is going to _kill_ him. Thankfully, Reno is apparently a heavy sleeper, and he’s not too surprised by that since the redhead had a bit of a nervous and mental breakdown the day before. 

He moves quietly and carefully through the house, grabbing the man’s cell phone from the coffee table to check the time, only to find that it’s died at some point in the night, and he moves to place it on its charger before making his way further towards the kitchen to start coffee before seeking out the laundry room. 

He’s sitting on the floor at the coffee table, dressed in his freshly clean and still warm clothes, sipping coffee from a black mug that has a caption in white and blue-green, calligraphic font that says: ‘kiss my ass, yo’, emblazoned across the mug’s front, when he hears the first signs of the other man waking up; the mug and the saying suits the Turk, and he would have felt bad about using the mug if he hadn’t explored the collection to find that almost every mug was of custom make and each bore a crude saying or sarcastic quote, paired with Reno’s customary ending of ‘yo’. As it stands, he may steal this one, since the saying currently matches his own sour mood and dark attitude.

It’s a few minutes still when Reno walks out of his bedroom and into the living room, dressed in another pristine suit, his shirt left unbuttoned with his signature goggles hanging around his neck as he pulls his hair perfectly and expertly back into a low ponytail. “Morning, yo.” The Turk’s voice is thick and groggy with sleep and exhaustion, and he simply replies with a soft agreeing hum as he sips at his coffee again before focusing back on the magrod and its exposed core.

“Whatcha doing, yo?” Reno’s voice comes from next to him this time, as he sets his mug down—this one says ‘bite me, bitch’—and folds his long legs up to his chest as he sits next to Biggs and watches him curiously as he works.

“Activating the sub-cores. You will still need to actually concentrate to do the upgrade work, but I thought I could check on the stability. You’ve put a lot of care to this, and as a weaponsmith, I can admire that.” He answers and explains as he activates the last sub-core—there are six and that’s astounding to see—before handing the weapon over to its owner.

“Just don’t use it on you again, I remember, yo.” Reno hums and chuckles as he pushes his goggles up into his hair before focusing on his precious weapon and begins to work with the core to upgrade the thing. “This is cool, yo. I never knew this was a thing.”

“Not many do.” He hums as he sips his coffee and sighs sadly at his ruined gun. It wasn’t so much the water that damaged it, though that _didn’t_ help, and more so the sheer amount of electricity that Reno had shot off it and ricocheted through the metal of it to shock him.

“Is it dead?” Reno’s voice is still that relaxed husky tone, but there’s a tinge of guilt to it, and he nods in answer. Hazard of the fight and the job, really. He can’t be mad at Reno over it, and surprisingly, he finds he actually isn’t. “Sorry, yo.” Reno apologizes, before carefully closing the core casing on his magrod and he’s up and moving before Biggs can register the other had even untangled himself to _stand_ let alone disappear from the room. The question of if the Turk has had a low dose of mako returns, but before he can really give it any attention, Reno is returning and has a large black lacquered case in tow that he gently and carefully sets on the couch behind Biggs. Curiously, he turns to watch as Reno opens the locked case, hums to himself as the redhead laughs at his curious look, and then shifts to sit back on his haunches as Biggs shifts foreword and up onto his knees to look inside the case.

Inside the case—which he now knows to be a gun case—sits three beautiful handguns, all custom models with beautiful metal work and brightly colored, leather wrapped grips and all have empty materia slots. Of the three guns, only one truly draws his attention, as it is a solid and shiny gunmetal black with a slight metallic sheen, beautiful designs carved down the barrel and body of the gun, with a two-toned leather grip in seafoam green and ocean blue—he’s beginning to think he has an obsession over the colors—and the coup de gras is how the masterpiece is the same size and style of his preferred handguns.

“They run on materia. One or two ammo cases are all that you ever really need. Don’t ask for an explanation, yo. Because I don’t get it—never understood Barrett’s arm either.” Reno hums in excitement next to him, and his voice pitches a bit high as he chuckles in amusement. “Since I killed yours, I want you to have one of these. I never use them, and you have an appreciation for them.”

“You’re just giving me one? These must be…” He blinks in shock at the beautiful pieces again, his eyes flickering over the gunmetal black shine with that two-toned grip once more. He’s pretty sure that he’s going to choose it on aesthetics alone, but he carefully lifts it from its case all the same. The weight is a little different than his last handgun, a little bit lighter, but the weight distribution is more even. He turns carefully away from Reno to stand and test the weight of the carry, and the set of his shoulders as he focuses down the sight of the gun. He tests the safety latch on it, checks the clip latch, kicks out the clip before popping it back in. Everything weighs well in his hands, the balance far more perfect than his old second-hand handgun. Lastly, he checks the materia core and smiles as he concentrates and can feel a possibility hidden within that hints at there being at least four sub-cores.

“You like it, huh?” Reno is up next to him, his shirt buttoned—it does nothing but show off his pecs, but it’s still a shame for his abs to be hidden—and the redhead is grinning wildly at him, his eyes dark with mischief as he lifts a four materia slot bracer, a set of gloves and a small glass box with a small titanium hoop earring with a thin twisting line of seafoam green and ocean blue through the metal. “Want the whole set?”

“Will the gloves even fit me?” He questions as he gently arms the safety on the gun before carefully setting it on the coffee table and pulls his nearly threadbare gloves from his hands.

“We’re about the same size, yo. Your shoulders are just broader.” Reno hands over the gloves as he keeps the bracer and earring in hand. Biggs doubts his reassurances, but slowly pulls the gloves on, and smiles at how they have settings to pull in order to actually adjust the fit to the wearer. _That_ makes far more sense than him and Reno having anywhere near the same sized hands. “Bracer.” He takes the bracer from him next, opening the clasps to set the ring around his wrist, perfectly resting against the soft cloth of the gloves and protecting his skin from the metal and the way it can heat under materia use. This bracer is like some of the things he’s seen Tifa and Jessie drool over in the weapons shops, a beautiful thing with a gear design in the same gunmetal with that same blue and green tints along a set of wings that rest around a center gear. It honestly looks like the inner workings of a watch, and he’s amused to realize that when he looks closer that it actually _doubles_ as a watch. “Earring.”

Reno shifts then, gripping his jaw gently to turn his head and suddenly the Turk is replacing his simple gold hoop with the accessory, and as it settles in his ear, he can feel the automatic restore rush over him, soothing and settling into his bones, along with an electricity and paralysis prevention ward. It makes him chuckle, at how his joke to not be Reno’s target practice has now been fully realized since he’s now _immune_ to being electrocuted by the redhead. “It suits you.”

“Thanks.” He replies softly, swallowing around a sudden tightness in his throat as those slender fingers trail down his throat and make him shiver. He’s sure Reno has more to say to him, from the way his pupils have dilated, but the moment is lost when his phone rings and as if they’ve been doused in ice, the redhead is pulling away from him to pick up the phone. He tunes the conversation out as he moves to finish dressing. His attention only moves from what he’s doing when Reno sets a new holster and three materia down on the table in front of him. He accepts the last of the gifts—things he strongly suspects are apologies—and stands just as Reno gets off the phone and pulls on the last of his own gear and uniform.

“Ready to go? We’re meeting up with the others and the kiddos at the Gainsborough house in Sector 5. It’ll be faster if we take a helicopter… unless you’re not good with heights or flying?” Reno’s all business, and he can see how the man is second-in-command behind Tseng with the way he delivers the information. He can picture the redhead using the same tone to hand out orders to others, and while he’ll never have a boss other than Barrett, he can admire and respect the man before him.

“Never ridden in a helicopter, but I’m good with heights and I don’t suffer motion sickness. You fly the things, right?” He replies as they begin moving out of the house, Reno locking up behind them, and he follows after the other. He can practically hear his friends screaming at him over all of his actions today, walking with Reno’s colors on him, as if he’s allowed the Turk to claim ownership over his body—he’s not _averse_ to such a thing—and soul. Perhaps, in a way he has allowed himself to be marked as being Reno’s, but it’s been an active choice. Besides, this is what he’d wanted last time: a natural way to speak to the other and get to know him. It’s just come in a format that he wasn’t expecting, but he’s not complaining.

“You’re in for a treat!” Reno happily exclaims as he bounces in place before turning and walking backwards. Biggs can’t say he follows everything that begins to spill from Reno’s mouth after that, as he’s off on a roll about being a pilot and how his helicopter is his baby, but he manages not to let that show as he smiles and nods. 

It shouldn’t be physically possible, for Reno to be so damned adorable _and_ handsome _and_ sexy all at one time. _Shit._ He’s got it _so_ bad. He’s doomed.

* * *

* * *

It is _noisy_ in her house, the noisiest and loudest she thinks that it has _ever_ been, despite whatever her mom might say concerning her having been a chatterbox, as she is certain that no _one_ child could have ever made _this much_ noise. It’s not even that it is bad noise, there’s no real amount of screaming or arguing going on among the kids, there is simply a lot of busy sounds echoing around her and through the house as the older kids try to set the house to rights, while also trying to help the younger children get ready for the day. It is cute to witness, and after realizing that the only two people that are _not_ fazed or overwhelmed with the hectic state of things is Andrea and Jules, she makes it a point to stand against one of the living room walls next to the other teen, holding onto Andrea’s arm as if he is an anchor in a storm. He’s laughed at her, and had even lightly teased her, but he hasn’t yet moved to shake her off. She is honestly immensely grateful for it too, as this is a tad much and she is suddenly acquiring a higher level of respect for her mother at the thought of having been even a sliver as rambunctious or as loud.

“How are you so calm?” She asks him after a solid thirty minutes have passed and things are only slightly more calm. The children have managed to help put away all the extra blankets and pillows, or gathered laundry to be done, some having even helped to get the laundry started. Now, they’re focused on helping each other dress for the day, and somehow, that is the more hectic task. The smallest blonde is the calmest in the noise, sitting holding a hairbrush and ponytail holders, as she watches the older blonde and ravenette as they fight and force Leslie’s hat off to force a brush through his short silver locks. Merle is already finished, having sat perfectly still for the dark skinned girl before turning and helping the girl with her own dark brown braids, putting in ribbons and one of flower crowns from yesterday.

“I used to run an ‘inn’ where we were performers and entertainers. This is no worse than rehearsal or openings.” Andrea answers in a hum, and she smiles as she shifts to rest her head against his bicep. He’s not as comfortable to lean on as Zack is, but he knows how to hold his weight and shift so she can lean her head sleepily on him as she allows her body weight to shift into his own and drift off a little. She faintly registers his amused chuckling, and giggles when he reaches to run a comforting hand through her curly bangs, pushing one back behind her ear before they both turn back to watch the kids.

The other boy, the little brunette—and she really needs to learn their names, this is ridiculous—is another calm point in the storm as he shifts from brushing out his hair and pulling it into a topknot, to giving his attention to the small blonde and gently tends to her light blonde tresses. He’s careful with her in a way that makes her believe the girl must be tender headed, and she smiles at the care involved. Soon, everyone is finally sorted out, and her mother is about to call for everyone’s attention when a knock sounds at the door and Cloud moves to answer it before stepping back to let Reno and Biggs in the door.

“Sorry we’re late, yo. Ran into some fiend trouble that was in the scrapyard off the train station in Sector 7.” Reno greets in apology as he steps in, nodding to Tseng and bumping wrists with Rude as he moves and stands in the corner by the door with his fellow Turks. A few steps behind him is Biggs, and as Cloud closes the doors, the two oldest kids jump up from their places sitting on the stairs to rush and hug their teacher.

“Biggs!” They both yell excitedly and he’s instantly kneeling to their level and tightly hugging them. Slowly, more calmly, the other Leaf House kids move and swarm around the familiar face.

“Are you ok?”

“Did you and the Turk hurt each other?”

“Is the Mister Turk a bad person? He just looks fluffy.”

“Did you hear what happened?”

“Are you angry with us?”

“Did we do something bad?”

“Are you still going to be our teacher?”

She smiles at the questions, giggling at the ‘mister Turk is fluffy’ comment, but she stays quiet and allows Biggs to sooth the kids’ nerves and anxieties. He knows them best, after all.

“Are any of you going to let me get a word in edgewise?” Biggs finally questions through a laugh, and she finally loses her fight with her giggles as the brunette boy replies with a simple, deadpan ‘no’ before the seven kids tackle hug the man and cause him to tumble to the floor. When Cloud starts to chuckle, she really starts laughing, and soon the house is full of laughter. 

Some time later, when the children are bustled outside to play, and Jules and Roche leave to watch over them at the little open area so no flowers are damaged, the remaining teens and adults settle in the kitchen to discuss what to do about the kids.

“Well, first thing is first: you’re not going to be able to easily separate them.” Biggs begins, and all attention turns to him, practically deferring to him for his knowledge and experience with the children. “Leslie never lets Merle out of his sight, and she’ll have panic attacks if he’s away from her for too long. Next is Artemis and her sister Celeste, they don’t separate—ever, even for naps. Avaline is better at being away from the others, but she gets restless without her friends. Gabrielle is the biggest trouble, though, as she can sneak and pop up absolutely anywhere and she _will_ run away to return to the others—especially the girls. And, last but not least: Syd isn’t one to be taken lightly. He’s a pretty boy, and likes to dance, design and style others, including using and practicing makeup techniques. Despite his dainty nature, and his calm ways, you _do not_ want to piss him off. He has a violent temper and when paired with Leslie, you will be lucky if their target won’t need stitches or bones set.”

“They’re violent?” Marle questions, and it’s not a judging tone, but Aerith is kind of distracted from it as something is itching at her mind over those names.

“Hm? No, not unless provoked by bullies.” Biggs explains, and she shifts slightly away from Andrea to think.

“Most of them have taken to my teaching them to dance.” Andrea speaks up then, and with the odd broken tone to his voice, she blinks when it finally clicks: those names are his little Honeybees!

“Doesn’t surprise me. Those main five never sit still. Merle is calmer, and Celeste tends to tucker out easily, but Leslie isn’t much of a dancer. Mostly he runs the Leaf House like a miniature watch, organizes the other children into jobs and tasks. Not sure if the Housemother thought of that when she kicked him out, but if I know the kids that are still there, I’m sure that she’ll quickly be reminded of it. Since Scotch and Kotch _only_ listen to Leslie, and no one else—despite both almost being preteens. Those two are trouble incarnate, always running jobs and schemes, but they also earn the most to treat the younger kids.” Biggs sighs then, and her eyes flicker over to Cloud’s in shock at the names mentioned. It isn’t _impossible_ for the two cronies to be children, but she also hadn’t given either any thought in two lifetimes. 

Shaking her head clear of the thoughts rattling in her mind of her and Tifa kicking the shit out of Scotch and a few others of Don Corneo’s men, she steps forward to the kitchen table and rests her hands on Tseng’s shoulders. Gently squeezing, she tiptoes to slightly look down at him and smiles as she aims to change the subject. “So, what’s your plan?”

“Hm… you’re pulling my hair.” Tseng states calmly, and she gives a small ‘oops’ before moving her hands and then his hair before resuming her previous position and smiling innocently down at him. “Thank you.”

“Oops.” She giggled as she shifts to lean on Rude’s shoulders instead, smiling as the stoic Turk chuckles and Reno lightly cackles as Tseng Shakes his head in exasperation.

“My idea is to find and buy a property to furnish as a home for the children. The idea is to be above plate, as Andrea has his training with us still, and Marle’s hospitality can only last for so long. My thought is to allow Andrea to live there with Jules and their young merc friend.” Tseng pauses in his explanation to gesture a hand towards Cloud before continuing. “The property will be paid for by us, and if anyone else would like to move into this place, I will be open to that.”

“Do you mean like another orphanage or a boarding house?” She questions curiously as she slumps down around Rude’s shoulders, careful of his earrings catching on her hair as she leans on him.

“Exactly what I mean. There are some larger buildings in Sector 2, as well as Sector 7, but I thought that the closer to Shinra tower…” This time Tseng is cut off by Cloud’s quiet but sharp voice.

“Ain’t gonna happen.” Cloud’s eyes first meet hers, and then Tseng’s before he moves from his lean by the front door and walks forward to the table. “I’m not living next door to Shinra. Sector 7 above plate is fine, _if_ you insist on it being above plate.” Cloud doesn’t waver as he stares down the older man, and she shifts slightly to tightly squeeze Rude’s shoulders as her nerves skyrocket. She knows Cloud, has known him for three lifetimes now—this being her fourth—but the look in his eyes is a stronger set than she’s ever seen him harness. His posture isn’t much different from all the other fights and arguments he’s gotten into over the many years, but his back is straighter and his head is held high and straight. She truly has to study him for some time before it _finally_ clicks where she’s seen this before, however briefly for her not to recognize it. Cloud is standing with all the strength and bolstered confidence that he had that first night on the stage of the Honeybee Inn, when they had first ever met Andrea and she’d watched Cloud change and shift before her very eyes. She had entertained the idea, back in that lifetime, that Cloud had gained a little fancy in the dancer, but seeing him like this now she knows that she was wrong and she can see just what had Tifa in an absolute _mess_ last lifetime: Cloud didn’t simply _fancy_ Andrea, or have a meager _crush_ on him—Cloud _loved_ and was _in love_ with the dancer. Yes, he’d said he loved the man in one of their text conversations once, but it hadn’t seemed to be that deep.

“If you live so far from our immediate protection, there is no easy way to watch over you all.” Tseng reasons, and Cloud is about to argue his case, she knows it from the way his head tilts, when Biggs steps up beside Cloud. 

“I’ll move above plate with them. Give an adult to watch over everything, and the children a familiar face. Keep up their lessons too.” Biggs suggests, and she shifts in her slouch over Rude to watch Tseng’s gaze. Eventually, after several minutes that feel like hours, Tseng nods.

“Very well. It may take a week to find a suitable place. If you wish to look, do so and then have Mrs. Gainsborough give me a call when you find something to fit your standards. Do not worry about the expense. This is an apology for the troubles caused.” Tseng’s voice dips then, and she can see his shoulders slightly move in a guilty curl even if she can’t see his eyes and whatever expression he’s making to cause Cloud to suddenly shift and move around the table to tightly hug him. She can’t hear what Cloud whispers into the man’s ear, but she can tell that whatever it is serves to ease the tension and strain from Tseng’s shoulders.

  
They stay a few minutes longer to iron out further details, but then the kids are called in for lunch and the Turks disperse. As she helps prepare lunch, she can feel a soft rippling echo move through the Lifestream, and she’s suddenly sure that what has happened today has changed something.


	20. Trials and Errors of Moving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ‘Boarding House’ takes a bit of time to find and acquire, but it works. Things are even going really well. Um... unless you ask the two grumpy-pants. But their opinions don’t count.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took time to write. I have spent the last few days trying to get this chapter to behave and it simply wouldn’t. So, while this is short, it is the only version that has survived. Note: the music that came on my iPod that finally got this to work was the Andrea/Cloud dance set and if that isn’t apropos for this chapter and fic and my being stuck, then I do not know what is. 
> 
> Take care my lovelies.

The ‘Boarding House’ is a five story mansion located in Sector 3 and is a massively beautiful work of artful architecture with sprawling work that seems to be inspired by the old Sector 5 Undercity church. It is slightly out of place in the very modern city, but was built in those very first days of Midgar, and so it was never updated as the rest of the city shifted around it. The building is large enough to house a library, a large kitchen and dining room, a large laundry room and several bedrooms with a near matching number of bathrooms. There is enough room for there to be an office on the first floor for work orders that require a delivery boy or a merc, a large sewing room on the second, two large rooms on the third that have been redesigned into dance rehearsal rooms, the entirety of the furnished basement has been turned into a dojo and gym, and last but not least there is a sizable garage with enough room for a few cars—and most importantly: a motorcycle or two.

It took longer than a week for them to find the building and convince the owner—who didn’t even  _ live _ in the beautiful building—to sell it to them, and after the negotiations to purchase, checks had been made on all manners of safety precautions before a few restoration and complete renovations had been completed. In the end, it took two months for the new space to be theirs.

Which meant the last traces of winter had fallen away from them and that spring had fully sprung. The timing inevitably was impeccable.

With spring brought a bit of unforeseen circumstances, a little bit of trouble and a bit of fun. Well… depending on just  _ whom _ you were asking for a comment.

_ (Note: that means Jules or Biggs and not the two grumpy ones). _

~ Syd

_ Journal Log: March  _

_ Trials & Errors of Moving, Volume VII _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was funny to write. I wanted to describe the house, but I am not at all good with architecture and so this little “journal report” was what I decided on. 
> 
> Also, Syd calling Cloud & Andrea grumpy is just amusing. I hope you lovelies have enjoyed.


	21. Nibelheim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An accident in his hometown drags Cloud back to the place of broken nightmares and into a disaster zone. He dares not hope, but he is pleasantly surprised when he does manage to find survivors under all the snow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW/CW: This chapter features the aftermath of a natural disaster, but does not go into any level of detail. Please be careful reading this, if the idea of disasters hurts you. 
> 
> Take care my lovelies.

Time seems to move differently up in the mountains, as if everything wishes to slow to a primordial crawl and encapsulate everything within the near vicinity with the same slow sedation that eventually erodes with time. The ground moves, the mountains shift, and when a couple of native monsters decide to rumble and fight when avalanche season is in full swing, accidents occur. It was rare for such things to reach such grand levels of death and destruction, and yet it is of no surprise for the mountain village to have suffered such great loss. Surveillance footage showed minimal damage to the mako reactor, since it was past the bridges and the deadly snow had shifted downhill a bit more from the right of Mt. Nibel than from the left. It didn’t truly matter from which direction the mountains had crumbled from, as so few people had survived, but rehashing the details over and over again was oddly soothing and calming. This destruction was _natural_ , a freak accident from nature and Gaia herself.

The knowledge that it was a natural accident doesn’t make him feel any better as he steps down from the helicopter and takes in the sight of the snow covered village. Only a few buildings are standing under all the snow, and the village is full of people from other nearby villages, as well as a small group of Shinra employees that are working their way through it all to find either more survivors or the dead.

Sighing, he shifts his winter coat around his shoulders and begins the match forward, leaving Reno behind in the helicopter to stay warm—and _safe_ , as the redhead doesn’t do well with snow—and makes his way towards the large arch at the front of the village that was once a _lot_ taller. It takes some time for him to report to an organizer in the search, but he is soon cleared to search through the snow and rumble. His first destination is the two sets of houses that haunt his nightmares: his own, and Tifa’s. They were always neighbors, and yet their social castes could never have been so clear or apart from each other. Only now, with both covered by several feet of snow and ice, do they finally fall into being equal. Well, it probably still wouldn’t be so if anyone were to question Mayor Lockhart.

Shaking his head, he moves through the snow to the top window of his mother’s house. It takes some time for him to dig out enough room to open the window and climb inside, but he eventually does. Inside looks like a battlefield, but he has seen far worse in his time, and so he moves carefully around broken or knocked over furniture as he searches for his mother. He is not optimistic that he will find her alive, though he sincerely hopes that she will be. It takes time, hours or minutes, he isn’t sure which, but he finally finds her downstairs laying on the couch under several thick blankets and for an instant, he wonders if she possibly died in her sleep and that thought stays in his mind until he sees the slightly movement that comes with steady but asleep breathing patterns.

He wants to rush her, to hug her close, but he knows better than to act so rashly and so he carefully reaches a hand to the tuft of light blonde hair sticking out from the blankets and gently runs his fingers through it. It’s a few quiet moments until his mother shifts into wakefulness, but as soon as her eyes meet his own, he’s curling up on the couch and tightly clinging to her. The irony of being here to rescue _her_ , when she is the one currently comforting _him_ , is not lost on him. He simply does not care. He has more work to do, has to figure out a way for her to be helped out of the house under all the snow and ice, but he still stays _just a little bit longer._

Cloud is very happy when after reporting to the search and rescue organizers that his mother is _alive_ , albeit injured, they move and begin to work on carefully moving their way inside and to help her out. A quick radio to Reno to expect his mother is all the further downtime that he takes as he climbs back up onto the roofs and over the ice to find Tifa’s bedroom window and once again finds his way through.

It is slow going, as he moves around the snow in search of a window that will open, but finally he manages to slip into the grand home. A part of him contemplates leaving the Mayor—dead or alive—but he knows better. He knows his conscience and his attempts to keep a good moral compass. And so he searches for the hateful and idiotic man first, going through the upper floors—and then the second and first when he falls through a patch of damaged flooring.

His search is slow going, as he’s never once been inside Tifa’s home and navigating without a mental map is further hindered by all the furniture and damage. When he does finally find the Mayor, it is in the kitchen, trapped under rubble and near black snow. The sight is more than enough to tell him the man is dead, and so he simply turns and begins to search for Tifa.

Going backwards through the house is easier this time, having moved things around once before to climb and traverse the landscape. He starts from the first floor and goes upwards this time, ending back at his original destination of Tifa’s room.

“Cloud?!” Tifa’s voice is a welcome balm to his concerned nerves as he pushes the tipped over dresser away from the door and pokes his head into the destroyed room. Following the voice, he smiles at the sight of the pint-sized martial artist as she’s curled up on her mattress within a massive pillow and blanket fort on the floor, with wood from her bed resting in a large bucket that’s holding a small fire. It is survivalist and relaxes him to see it, despite the quiet curiosity of the sight—he doesn’t remember Tifa knowing survival skills when they were children.

“Tifa.” He calls softly in greeting, and begins climbing into the room. “Are you badly injured?”

“Sort of?” Tifa huffs in answer, pulling her blankets back to show her wrapped leg and ankle, set with makeshift splints and bandages. “It doesn’t hurt too bad, unless I have to move it. What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you and mom. Reports came about the avalanche.” He answers as he moves and begins to search for a bag to pack some of her clothes and other non-broken things. “You’re coming to Midgar with me.”

“... Is dad dead then?” He hums at the question, focusing on packing as much as he can for his oldest friend. “Is your mom safe at least?”

“Mom is bruised, with a sprained ankle and wrist, but they’ve already helped her out of the house.” He smiles then, and breathes out in relief as the girl claps her hands happily. “Can you stand up enough for a jacket or to be bundled in blankets?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve tried to stay still.” Tifa answers him, and as her red eyes lock to his, he registers how calm she is. Tilting his head, he fights for the words to question her about it, only to be cut off by a giggle from the girl. “ _Yes_ , Cloud. I remember our past lifetimes. We can discuss it all later, however. First, can we get me _out_ of here?”

He doesn’t chuckle—he _does_ —at the way Tifa lets her stuffed carbuncle and chocobo go to give him ‘grabby hands’, and he doesn’t laugh—he _does_ —when she pouts up at him.

She’s still pouting when he climbs out of her house, with her wrapped in thick blankets, her bag of salvaged momentos and clothes slung over her back, and with one arm wrapped around his shoulders as the other arm is the tightly holding onto her stuffed plushies. She’s even still pouting and glaring up at him when he sets her into Reno’s helicopter and his mom lovingly pulls her into a hug. 

It isn’t ideal, to be returning to Midgar and losing his anonymity, but at least he still has his mother. He’s also not looking forward to once again having the inevitable ‘what is between you and Andrea’ conversation with Tifa, and he hopes that she doesn’t bring it back up for a long time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tifa remembers, and Cloud once again has his oldest friend at his side. He also now has his mother, so going back home will definitely be interesting.


	22. Bitter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jules is growing annoyed and worried over the tension in the Boarding House, but there’s Roche and he’s all too happy to lighten his mood—or attempt. 
> 
> Meanwhile, a slightly distant neighbor is having an interesting day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter does not want to work past these two scenes. I’m so sorry for this. I know the next big beat in the story, and other character arcs and relationships that need addressing (a certain puppy is involved), but getting there just isn’t behaving well. My apologies for this. On the upside: small but multiple updates!

It is bittersweet when Cloud returns home to them, as he is happy that his dear friend returns with an injured—but alive—Tifa Lockhart and his mother, but with their presence in the boardinghouse things are inevitably due to change. Their anonymity is gone with a parental figure in the house, which is good for Biggs, as their de facto older sibling no longer has to worry over the house all hours of the day or night. Biggs being able to live his own life is nice, especially since the older teen is also still a member of the Sector 7 Undercity Watch. So, that is good.

What _isn’t_ good is the way Cloud returns with visible tension in his eyes and the way he shifts _away_ from Andrea. No outward sign of being bothered was visible over his brother’s face, but he knew Andi was secretly confused and hurt over the perceived rejection.

“They will need to talk— _soon._ ” Roche’s voice pulls him from his thoughts as the pretty boy sits beside him, and he can’t help but allow a chuckle past his lips at the bluntness of his friend. Roche was always good at seeing through the fog and pointing out flaws and issues to others’ logic and pain.

“I am well aware.” Jules sighs as he shakes his head and shifts to pull his legs up to a closer stair of their large back porch. The porch was a beautiful wrap around, with small sectioned off areas that doubled as enclosed decks or outer rooms. Sun rooms, he thinks Mrs. Gainsborough called them.

It’s getting more into the spring season, and though it has only been a week since Miss Strife and Tifa moved into the house, the time has felt more like _decades_ as the cloying tension built and built between Andrea and Cloud. It had begun with Cloud not moving into Andi’s touch for hugs or the way Andi would play with the blonde’s spiky locks, and it had only gotten worse when Cloud soft-moved out of their bedroom suite.

Ever since, the quiet fighting and tension had slowly become as thick as the swampland quicksand that served as home to the Midgar Zolom. Jules has tried to diffuse the stress and solve the issues, but neither Andi or Cloud had actually talked to him.

“We could lock them in their room and only allow food and water until they fight it out?” Roche’s calm suggestion makes him laugh and he can’t help but smile at the younger boy. “Aww, there’s that precious jewel of a smile!”

He groans at the bad pun, turning and standing as he gets up to walk around the porch from the laughing speed demon. Motorcycle and jewelry puns were all the pretty boy spoke in. He refuses to allow the boy to know how cute he thinks it is. Then, he would only get all the worse. And Jules isn’t sure if his heart could handle that. Roche is already too cute as-is.

* * *

* * *

He’s been humming all day long. He had begun early that morning when he had to visit Shinra Tower and the labs, as he was due for a ‘check up’ and a ‘training monitoring session’, and if he _could_ have refused, he _would_ have. ‘ _Shoulda, woulda, coulda’_ as Reno says. Thankfully, the session had been cut short—some type of electrical problem or sabotage—and so he had been able to escape Hojo’s clutches and return home to his house in Sector 3 _several hours—_ if not _days_ —early.

Which is how, and _why_ , he was currently able to be outside lounging on his porch and reading a book as he hummed the familiar tune to himself when he caught sight of a frustrated and lost-in-thought Jules Rhodea as he wandered down the street. The young teenager had been walking the same path for the last hour and a half, and if he thought his calling out to the pretty russet redhead would do anything, he would. However, he has tried such an action three separate times now and none of them had actually caught the younger’s attention, and so he had left off trying to inquire after the boy’s well-being to instead resume his reading and his humming. He is currently reading _Loveless_ , a simple paperback copy that is nowhere near as beautiful or as elegant as Genesis’ own white leather bound, hardback edition. The simplicity served him, however.

His humming resumes again, as his mind wanders further and further away from the text in his hands and he places the open book face down on his chest. He hadn’t slept well the night before due to odd thoughts and odder dreams—things that had begun somewhere around September or October of the year before and had flared to full life during the Winter Solstice. Genesis and Angeal both suspect something is wrong with him, but as he _never_ remembers the dreams and nightmares upon waking to the warm light of day, he can’t tell them _what_ is wrong.

Recently, right within the first week of January, he had been introduced to a new… _toy_ of Hojo’s, and to cope with seeing the… _thing_ , he had taken up humming. The tune shouldn’t even be calming, and yet… He found the words soothing and encouraging, and couldn’t resist singing along to the tune in his head. 

_“Life can be harsh, it can be bitter._

_But we can make it,_ **_oh_ ** _so sweet._

_Here at the Honeybee Inn,_

_Every moment **is** a treat.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lyrics are taken directly from the opening sequence of “Stand Up”, the first song played in the Honeybee Inn scene in-game.
> 
> Also: I’m sorry this is left on a tease. It won’t behave! 😫


	23. Save Me From My Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud overhears Jules and Roche talking, and despite solid context clues, he just knows that the two are discussing him and Andrea. The panic attack that ensues breaks him down and he realizes he has to talk over some things with the dancer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW/CW: There is a full description of a panic attack in this chapter, and I used some of my own experiences to describe what happens. What I focused on was the loss of breath and the feeling of the throat closing. Help does arrive shortly after it begins, but still be careful as you read if this would trigger you. 
> 
> If you want to skip the actual description of this, scroll to the place where “Cloud, honey” appears, as that is when help arrives and the attack begins to be soothed. (It is just after Cloud losing his energy line).
> 
> ——
> 
> I hope all my lovelies are safe and well.

“They will need to talk— _soon._ ” He can hear Roche’s voice as he goes to walk out onto the back porch, but stops as he listens for whom the ash blonde is talking to.

“I am well aware.” Apparently Jules is whom his friend is speaking to. The conversation ends soon after, and Cloud hears nothing more as he hears first Jules as he stands and walks off, then Roche shifts at the sound of Syd and Leslie calling for him, but despite the lack of context to whom or what the two were discussing he _knows_ it was concerning his recent and abrupt distance from Andrea.

Sighing, he moves to lean back against the wall and takes a deep breath to breathe. It is a fight to get air into his lungs, and he suddenly can’t breathe as tears prick at his eyes and his chest seizes. He feels like he’s been hit by a paralyzing spell, and can’t move. It isn’t like he is _willingly_ pulling away from Andrea, but he simply didn’t think of consequences when he brought his mother and Tifa _here._ He had just been so relieved that they were alive that he’d insisted on them moving in. It was only _after_ that he had registered he didn’t know how his mother would react.

Sobbing and sniffling, he tries to fight back the paralysis slowly moving up his throat from his chest. He can’t breathe, and he’s just beginning to panic when he slides down the wall to sit and gasp for air. This has never happened to him before—or if it _has_ , he doesn’t remember it. Either way, he can’t get air into his lungs, and as he tries to yell for help—yell for _Andrea_ —the feeling worsens because why would Andrea help him when he has only pushed the dancer away?

“Cloud?” Faintly he can hear the voice calling him, but it is all through a fog and he can’t make it out through the loud pounding and rushing of blood in his ears. “Cloud!” The sounds of rushing steps move from their starting point to his side, and he gasps as his eyes snap to Andrea’s concerned face. “Cloud? Honey, you need to _breathe_.”

He _can’t;_ he shakes his head as he claws at his throat, sobbing as he reaches for the dancer and grips the teen’s arm with one hand, the other clenching into Andrea’s black tank top as the teen shifts closer to him and begins to massage his throat. He can’t hear anything the dancer is saying to him, but he can feel the paralysis slowly fading away from him, draining his energy from him as it goes.

“Cloud, honey?” Andrea’s voice is soothing even as it swings wildly through his voice breaking and shifting, the words ending on the deeper end of the spectrum, and calming him further as they are closer to his memories and the way Andrea’s voice sounds as an adult. The sound of him speaking is doing more to calm him now, than the actual words being spoken, and he happily shifts as he sniffles and curls into Andrea’s chest.

They’re both sitting on the floor now, with Andrea holding him back and protectively against his chest, one hand carding through Cloud’s hair as the other rubs up and down his back. It is comforting and soothing, knowing that despite having pulled away from the older boy for the last week, that he can still care and worry enough over Cloud to hold him like this.

“Cloud?” Andrea’s voice is quiet, careful as he speaks softly, and he curls further into the dancer’s chest. He has missed this, missed the innocent but grounding touches, being able to hug him, and most of all: missed sleeping at the other’s side in their rooms. Before his last lifetime, he had never been one to sleep beside another but after laying beside Andrea when he was injured, the act had slowly become a habit, and then had further become a _need_ if he wanted a good night’s sleep. “Honey? What happened?”

Swallowing, he tests his voice and his throat before finding the words to speak. He starts and stops several times, not able to find the words, and so simply curls more into Andrea’s embrace.

“Don’t _ever_ be afraid, Cloud.” Andrea hums it softly into his ear, the same inflection and nuances as that first lifetime that he met the enigmatic man. He still dreams of that first meeting, that first dance and the way it felt to be touched by those playful teasing fingers brushing against his skin, the way he leant back into Andrea’s chest and trusted the man not to drop him from the sudden dip. He had wanted to _stay_ , wanted to explore the heat in Andrea’s gaze, the noise that the man had made when his dress had been revealed… “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong, honey?”

“I’m not sure, I’ve never experienced that before. It was like, fear suddenly spiked up and suddenly I was paralyzed.” He sniffles again, even as he calms under Andrea’s careful touches.

“Sounds like you had a panic attack, Cloud. Do you know what triggered it?” Andrea’s voice is soft, and the hands carding through his hair is soothing, calming him and chasing away the last vestiges of his panic.

“Thinking of losing you.” He says it calmly and bluntly, but his heart starts pounding again as those hands still, then remove themselves and he lets out a panicked cry before Andrea is lifting him and turning him to look up at the teen.

“You’ll not get rid of me easily. Even if I don’t understand why you’re suddenly being distant, I’m your friend first and foremost. I’m also not some delicate flower.” Andrea’s voice has dipped low again, closer to that thrumming hum Cloud knows will become fuller and richer when the dancer reaches adulthood. Again, it soothes more than the words themselves, and he shuffles out of Andrea’s grip to lunge forward and hug him tightly. “I… oh honey.”

“I don’t know how my mom will react, and Tifa was weird about us last night. I… thought if I temporarily took a different room, I could ease the reveal? It… I’m sorry Andrea.” It hurts to say the words aloud, giving voice to his fears and even more so in acknowledging that he unintentionally hurt the only person that he’s ever truly loved. It’s painful, and he supposes that this could technically be considered their first fight. “I’m sorry.”

“You could have just said all of that.” A hand cards through his hair at the relieved sigh that escapes Andrea, and he curls more into the warm and safety of that strong embrace. “I feared I was losing you to Tifa.”

“I… we were together once, in two different lifetimes actually, but neither worked out. The first time I just lost the feeling, and the second time…” He sighs, knowing they _need_ to have this discussion but also that it is nothing something that needs to be discussed where others can hear them, and _especially_ not while sitting on the floor of the hallway leading out to the backyard. Slowly and reluctantly, he shifts and pulls himself up from Andrea’s embrace to stand and holds a hand out to the dancer. “We should move if we’re really going to have this conversation.”

Andrea’s eyes flicker, swirling from green to gray before settling back to the mixed color and shading, and Cloud smiles when Andrea takes his hand with a smile and pulls himself up. “Lead the way, Cloud.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Andrea and Cloud finally discussing their past lifetimes, their attraction to each other and their relationship is finally here.


	24. The Story of My Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud finally speaks to Andrea, explaining his life story. It clears some things up, and settles them back to how they were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was hard to write as I wasn’t sure how to format or address this. After a few days of drafts, I finally settled on this. The storytelling format worked the best for what I wanted to do with Cloud’s tale, and I hope it works out well.
> 
> Update/Editing Note: Due to a reader pointing out that I somehow had a brain malfunction between my notes and the writing of this chapter, I’ve now fixed the line concerning the Honeybee Inn not existing in the first lifetime. Sorry about that my lovelies.

_I was born in Nibelheim, and it was always just my mom and I. Strife is her maiden name, and she never married, and I simply do not know who my father is._

_All of that has stayed the same._

_My first lifetime, it was slightly different from the second. Wall Market still existed, but Sam, Madame M didn’t. I don’t think Jules existed, though his gym was there and while the Honeybee Inn existed as well,_ _**you** didn’t. I would’ve remembered you, no matter the issues with my memories._

_And, speaking of, I still have some empty places. Places where I remember things in double—things that are mine and things that are Zack’s._

_The main points? Genesis Rhapsodos degraded, Zack was made to kill Angeal, Sephiroth went insane in Nibelheim and… Zack and I died? That’s all fuzzy. For four or five years, Zack and I, we were experimented on and lived in Mako tubes. He woke up, randomly, and proceeded to carry my mako poisoned and comatose body across country to Midgar. He was trying to reach Aerith but… he died on a cliff outside of town._

_Tifa, found me some time after._

_Then, I joined Avalanche—kinda. I was a merc. We bombed the Reactors, but it was some freak accident that caused the too-large explosion. In retaliation, Shinra sent two Turks to drop the Sector 7 plate. It was Reno and Rude. We fought them, but the plate still dropped._

_We rescued Aerith and made a new friend, his real name is Nanaki but Hojo called him Red XIII. He’s a… talking lion-dog creature. Very wise and very calm._

_We traveled after that. Chasing Sephiroth and his ‘alien mother’. That’s a_ **_lie_ ** _by-the-way. Eventually, Meteorfall happened and… we barely survived that. All of Gaia barely survived that._

_With Aerith being dead—yeah, sorry. She was killed by Sephiroth. With Aerith being dead, she was able to help us from the Lifestream to keep away Meteor. We finally killed Sephiroth—we thought for good._

_But… then Geostigma happened and over the next two years it ravaged the world. Tifa and I… or Tifa mostly, were looking after Barrett’s daughter—you’ve never met him, he’s huge, loud and has a gun for an arm—then we took in this orphan. His name is Denzel, and… I adore him. He, I_ **_think_ ** _he’s kind of mine? Not biologically of course, but…_

 _Anyways—don’t give me that look!_ **_Anyways_ ** _—I began searching to find what was causing the Geostigma, and then it began in me. I… drifted away from them, from everyone._

_Then, three men—kids? Teens?—appeared and they looked like three aspects of Sephiroth. Clones or his hatred? We fought them, the event became known as ‘Advent Day’. Their names were Kadaj, Yazoo and Loz. Kadaj consumed the… parasite thing, and took on Sephiroth's… everything. So we fought, and then… a prayer rain fell—more help from Aerith._

_There was a spring of healing water in the Sector 5 Church afterwards. It healed Geostigma, and I made sure to heal Denzel first, then other kids._

_It… shortly afterwards, maybe a few days to a week? I went to the Church to check on things… I um, well. I found Reno, crying and…_

_We had a talk, but it’s not my place to say what it was over. But, you need to know… I slept with him. For the next three or so years, we had a slight on-again/off-again relationship. When we were in town, we tried to meet up. Or we’d run a mission—I ran a delivery service, and did merc work. About, a year in… Tifa asked me what Reno was doing on my bike—this huge beautiful black thing—and Denzel and Marlene got used to me seeing Reno._

_Then, Vincent’s past—you don’t know him either. His full name is Vincent Valentine, he’s an ex-Turk, about 40-50 years old, but looks forever twenty something due to having been subject to Hojo’s experimentations._

_I don’t know the details, but something called Deepground—think SOLDIER but they live in constant pain? It's brutal._

_Past that… I don’t know._

_In my second lifetime, a_ **_lot_ ** _of it was the same._

 _Genesis, Angeal and Zack, Sephiroth. It differs after Zack’s death—and for a long time, I thought I_ **_was_ ** _Zack._

_This time I also met Roche, the Sector 7 Watch existed. Got closer to Jessie, Biggs and Wedge—I don’t think you’ve met the other two yet._

_And… there was_ **_you._ ** _Yes you._

_Of course, Aerith and I met Sam first, then Jules. Tifa had volunteered to be in the audition for Don Corneo’s bride to gather information, but neither Aerith or myself were willing to let her do such a thing alone._

_The Colosseum was new. Wall Market was so different from the first life—not that I knew that. I didn’t have the memories then._

_You know what happened that night—it was how we met. And… my heart was pounding. As we danced, as your fingers ran over my bare shoulders…_

_Being stripped on stage wasn’t pleasant, but… I felt myself just relax into you. When I was dressed, and you pulled me to you for that little spin, I almost leant back into you. I didn’t linger on it, didn’t know how to feel over it… but I_ **_was_ ** _aroused. And I wasn’t overly flustered from your teasing and flirting. Then… your words to me after you dipped me—I was shocked you had the strength._

_Oh hush! I’m not trying to start anything—just, stating facts._

_Thank you, by-the-way. For sending Leslie after us with our things. You really saved us. We ended up having to fight Corneo’s pet in the sewers. Leslie also didn’t exist before, I’m glad he’s here now—he_ **_is_ ** _one of the sweetest kids._

_Hm. After we escaped the sewers, we found that Corneo hadn’t been lying to us: Shinra was going to crash the Sector 7 Plate. It…_

_I didn’t have the time to cry, over Jessie and Biggs dying on the tower… It's so nice that Biggs is here. He’s calming, you know?_

_Where was I? Oh. Yeah, once again it was Reno and Rude up on the tower. And, we fought them—beat the shit outta Reno. Rude… carried his limp and unconscious body away…_

_I_ ** _do_** _still love him! Don’t give me that look! You’ve slept with him too, Andrea! I… that’s not an accusation or a keep shot at your sex work._ ** _I_** **_love you_** _. Idiot. Fell for you, really fell for you, last lifetime._

_After the plate was dropped, Tifa, Barrett and I, well: I found you at Jules’ gym. Asking for help topside, we were going to rescue Aerith from Shinra—again. Yeah._

_Don’t think I_ **_didn’t_ ** _notice the extra arch to your back, the exaggerated moaning and huffing noises that you made when I found you doing pull-ups. Yeahhh. I also liked the way you showed off during your competition with Tifa… I just didn’t have the time to really study it. To indulge the… burn in my abs at watching you like that._

 _Oh! Please tell me you didn’t_ **_actually_ ** _go and dance that night?! You didn’t? Good. I… worried when you said it. Don’t give me that smirk right now, Andrea… not when we can’t do anything about it._

 _Hush! I’m_ **_not_ ** _blushing! Shuddup!_

_Yeah yeah… laugh it up. Asshole._

_Hm… what next? Well, once again we met Nanaki—though again we only knew him as Red XIII then. We saved Aerith… Wedge died… and we escaped. We fled Midgar afterwards._

_Here, things kind of follow the first timeline again. Meteorfall happened once more and Geostigma started—that’s the second time you’ve made that flinch. Andrea?_

_You had Geostigma? I… no! No! That’s…_ **_that’s not fair!_ ** _I… I’m so so sorry Andrea!—deal with me holding you, this…_

_I kept your earrings. Yeah… they kept me grounded when things got to be too much, when my fears would flicker. I… I didn’t know what had happened to you after Meteorfall, I had tried looking for you in Edge. Never really thought of Kalm… I’m soooo sorry._

_Andrea, no… you don’t—I loved you. As much as I didn’t acknowledge it, and I let you go, if I had known where you were…_

_Right. It… Advent Day happened about two years to the day of Meteorfall… oh. You think you may have died before then? It… I’m sorry still, Andrea. The thought of your beautiful and perfect body and beautiful mind ravaged by that… I’m snuggling and I’m comfy in your arms—I_ **_like_ ** _my back being pressed to your chest. Our dance remember?_

 _Hm… well; once again I ended up finding Reno in the church. We fell into bed together again—heh. Maybe my_ **_type_ ** _is just sexy confident men that are a little bit loud and flamboyant. You’re going to hate this, but when I first met Roche, I kind of flirted back. Haha! I’m yours, Andrea._

 _Things… fade out after that. And then I woke up in my third lifetime,_ **_with_ ** _memories. I wanted to get to Midgar, I wanted to get to you. To check on you and Jules. Then, Aerith somehow knew that you’d been injured and sent me with that care package and—you know the rest._

_What was I doing in the brothel? Oh, well, I had intended to check on you. I don’t trust the higher ups at Shinra. In the lobby I overheard Angeal, Genesis and Sephiroth speaking over having broken Heidegger’s arm in defense of you—so I got worried. If you were still working or were hurt. When I thought the voice was familiar, I had to peak. Then, I knew that brilliant red hair, and I relaxed. I’ve been with Reno, I knew you’d be fine… I just wasn't comfortable seeing it._

_Hmm? Yeah, I… heard the noise you made right as I snuck out. You have good hearing… oh? Heh. Senses tend to grow more powerful when you’re on alert or paranoid._

_Andrea? Can I ask what he did to make you moan and scream like that? I… ohh. Huh. Hush… not blushing—_

_I don’t know why it reset again, however… Andrea? What is it? It… hush… it’s ok. You don’t have to tell me, no you don’t. Just hold me, ok?_

_Just lay still with me then? Hmm… you know, I wish I still had those earrings. Why? They were a gift from you. You just…_

_I don’t know how to explain it, Andrea. All I know is that since I first met you, I was attracted to you and entranced. You settle something in me, something that’s restless and I find myself content to just be at your side. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just don’t know how my mom is going to react—I can’t tell her that mentally that we’re adults. And, she will at least flip out over my youth and you being a teenager… There’s also Tifa’s reactions that I’m not entirely sure of. We only briefly discussed you and I, the one time last lifetime, and I never really gave her much time to question me on it. You weren’t touching me, and we didn’t know the other knew until I woke up from my coma._

_Andrea, just… I’m perfectly happy with you. We’re closer in age now, we can do this and I can’t wait to get to know you more. Maybe, by the time I’m old enough… you’ll once more be the star dancer on a stage. We could dance again… mmhm. Only enjoy dancing with you, though._

_Don’t you ever dare start up the sex work again though… I just want you to be mine. Like I’m only yours. Hehe… yes I mean it._

_Hm, I missed this. You’re a very comfortable pillow. Hm? I… you say I’m perfect but I… I don’t see it. No. I don’t want you to stop saying it._

_A nap? After my roller coaster of emotions? Please? As long as I’m held in your arms._

_I love you too, Andrea. Yeah, in-love._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hold a fondness for Kadaj, Yazoo and Loz and I think there’s a beautiful tragedy in their lives and their deaths. Also, I love Denzel, I just wanna keep him safe (he will reappear years down the line; I can’t not have him and Marlene—but we’re far away from that).


	25. My Inheritance and Legacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrea finally tells his story to Cloud; not all can be voiced right now, but in time. What’s important, however, is the way he says ‘I love you’ to the taciturn merc.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW/TW: Discussion of brothels, death, destruction, fatal illness, forced sex work, Don Corneo existing, and murder in defense of another. 
> 
> All of these topics have been discussed before, and there are briefly mentioned here, like points on a grander timeline, but still: I ask all my previous lovelies to be careful and read with caution.

_I only have two lifetimes of memories. Jules and I were born to a woman that was something of a rare beauty in Midgar. Her name was Briar Rose. A woman of pale, ivory skin and russet red thick curls. Jules takes after her in that department. My inheritance? Dancing;_ _I take after my father in the looks department._

_Our mother was a spectacle. She could act, sing and dance. If the Gold Saucer had existed in her youth, she would’ve been found there. She even performed in a showing or two of_ Loveless _._

_She died when we were children still, I was nothing more than a brat and a wannabe punk, and suddenly it was just Jules and I. But, I had grown up in the Undercity and so I could handle it._

_Jules and I lived through the collapse of the Sector 6 Plate—and I’ve always thought it was something done by Shinra. Just, not as efficiently or something went wrong for not all of the sector to be destroyed._

_I don’t know if Jules remembers her, not past her name and maybe her smile. I don’t even remember her scent, barely remember her teaching me how to dance. It has been weathered by time and age._

_I took up with the Don when I was a teenager, needing to eat and take care of Jules. Kept Jules out of it. Or, tried to._

_When I had enough money saved, I began to build the Honeybee Inn into a cabaret and not simply a place of pleasure._

_Hmm. That three year waiting list to see me is my clientele list for the brothel. I would’ve enjoyed having your name on it, Cloud. Heh. Don’t give me that shocked look._

_I had grown stagnant, bored. I had been disenchanted for a decade by the time I met you._

_I almost didn’t even go to the Coliseum to watch the Corneo Cup. I despise the blood and gore. So few challengers ever won anyways. And then_ **_you_ ** _appeared. Blonde, pale, lithe and built. You moved with a beautiful grace that I was enchanted upon your first bout in the ring._

 _Oh yes, Aerith fought too, and she’s pretty. But not_ **_you._ ** _Besides, I only like men._

_When I told Madame M to send you to me, she told Aerith and the girl apparently beamed in unbridled amusement._

_I didn’t know you would be able to follow my lead so well, and I was so impressed, Cloud. I… my Gaia, I wanted to pull you from the stage and pull you back to my rooms._

_Please don’t ask me for details in my thoughts that night, as you said: we cannot do anything about it right now._

_When I saw you in that dress, all your beauty pulled out even more, I nearly moaned out loud. The sight of my favorite earrings in your ears really did me in. Oh? Heh… you_ **_heard_ ** _that noise I made?_

_Don’t tease! Yes I’m blushing! You are perfection, Cloud! Do you blame me for getting so hot and bothered, for… the first time in my life being truly attracted to someone? No one caught my attention before you, and no one caught it since._

_I… I had hoped you had noticed my actions at the gym the next morning. I… when the plate crashed, I worried. I relaxed a little when you approached me on the street. I was a little jealous of Tifa… and that fueled me when that morning you appeared before me at Jules’ gym. I challenged her to that contest of pull-ups, and I perhaps did more showing off with the way I arched my back and lifted myself…_

_You were truly… bothered by it? It… fuck. Perhaps I should’ve said something. Even asked you for enough time for a simple kiss. Something to know that… whatever is between us was present even then._

_Nothing really happened after you left, besides my worrying over your well-being. Jules and I discussed it often. Madame M and Sam even voiced their concerns a few times. Wall Market changed a bit after Don Corneo fled. I turned the Inn into a full cabaret, and stopped the brothel._

_When Meteorfall happened, Jules was all I thought of. Even my precious Honeybees… I lived with that guilt. I think I still am._

_I… think I got hit with some of that warring light, mako or that blackness. But, I had Geostigma before it was given a name. We fled to Kalm. I heard rumors of you. It kept me going. I still danced for a bit, no stage and no crowds. Just for myself. But… then it began to eat at the muscle in my thigh, and then my leg. When my back was affected, I was confined to a chair._

_Hush, love. Don’t cry for me. I am better now, and those nightmares are phantom pains._

_I… the day I died I think I heard Aerith’s voice, and then I woke up in my room at the Inn._

_I had overworked myself when you appeared that day, with that care package for me. It was… I felt so dumb for being injured when I finally met you again._

_But you were so young, and I couldn’t tell you. I couldn’t touch you._

_You know the rest._

_Well, other than the five years of your coma. … It was hard to get through, but… we took out Corneo. We killed him. Took over Wall Market, got rid of the brothels—not just the Inn with those investors that I won over._

_I waited for you. Watched Aerith watch over Sephiroth. Kept an eye on him myself, despite not knowing why he’d gone insane in my previous lifetime, he was my friend for my second._

_Roche hung around Wall Market a lot. Mostly at Jules’ gym. He missed you. Slowly, I think he developed feelings for Jules, but either he never acted on them, or Jules was just oblivious. Jules is worse at that than I am, though his is from being too centered and focused on work and fitness. My heart was just cold and cynical._

_When you woke up, my heart stopped. That night was… we did nothing but dance and you allowed me to hold you while you rested but it felt like I had come home. Something I had not experienced in decades._

_I… oh honey, I want to tell you what happened for our last lifetime to reset, but I_ **_can’t_** _. I… I don’t have the strength. It… I know what happened._

_Hm? Oh, no. It wasn’t you failing Sephiroth, he was… well, the last time I saw him the man was still sane. I…_

_Cloud… I died. I died and… I’m sorry, honey. I’m so sorry._

_Heh… I’ll hold you as tight as you hold me. Mmhm. Always._

_Hmm… waking up this lifetime? It… It is drastically different. The woman that was our mother this time, was not Briar Rose. I think perhaps her soul has been lost to the Lifestream. Or, at least I hope she’s found paradise._

_I am being trained by the Turks, because I killed our stepfather for daring to imply Jules be a… I can’t even say it. He woke us up in the middle of the night and was going to force us to ‘work’. My history aside, Jules never has, and I absolutely refused. I snapped, fought him with all my anger and street smarts, and then I found his gun and shot him point blank._

_Why do you look impressed by that? It… you’re so weird. But, then again… you_ **_do_ ** _seem to have a thing for Turks. Hahahaha. Awww! But you_ **_do_** _!_

_Fine fine, I’ll stop teasing you, just come back here and let me hold you._

_Hm. So, you know what happened when we finally arrived in Midgar from Junon._

_Hm? My nightmare the night we talked? It was my death. Please don’t pity me, Cloud. I couldn’t handle that from you._

_Hehe. Mmhmmm. If you wish, when you’re older, I’ll tell you what happened and I won’t stop you._

_Hmm. Butterfly kisses? Aww._

_Oh_ **_honey_** _, Cloud I love you. I fell in love at some point in time. I… I think it may have even been my first lifetime—don’t tease me! I don’t know, I just… holding you in my arms for that spin and dip was like a piece of my heart had returned and come home._

_We’ll figure this out. But together. Hmm._

_I love you too._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! They’ve talked. Three lifetimes later, but hey—better late than never, right? Right? Right.


	26. Finding Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrea thinks over his talk with Cloud, and contemplates what he thinks of as home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is short, and my apologies for that. I am being requested by an irl classmate to help her research a few things for the culture club that she runs and that is taking up a lot of my time. With that said, this short chapter still had about five different iterations and none of them I was particularly pleased with. This one is still a bit grumpy inducing, but I do like the tone and the glimpse of the kids. 
> 
> Also!: I am happy and honored to announce that this fic has an ‘inspired by’ one-shot fic that was written by Shiary and is titled “Not all who remember are allies”. It is set at an unknown future date (from this point in time in the story), and CW/TW: it does have mentions of and attempted rape/noncon. It is a scene involving Don Corneo, so truly what else is new? But still, I ask all my lovelies to be careful if you wish to go read it. There is a link down at the bottom after end notes. 
> 
> I am beyond happy with it, and I hope you all go show Shiary love!

Andrea hums as he steps out onto the back porch of their house, he has _Stand Up_ stuck in his head and he’s finally feeling better after having been upset for the last few weeks. He isn’t at his best just yet, but Cloud has moved back into their room and so he can be patient for his beloved to find his courage to talk to his mom. Claudia Strife was a mystery that he wasn’t sure how to address, and with the way that Tifa was being a bit standoffish from both the blonde and himself, he understood Cloud’s reticence and uncertainty. He still wished that they hadn’t nearly had a fight over this small misunderstanding, but they had at least finally talked about their pasts and how each felt over this relationship.

It felt so much better to have finally said it all, to have addressed more than just a few worries and twisting thoughts. He was still a little off-kilter, but he was doing better. Cloud having spent the night curled into his side helped with the last lingering traces of the feelings of loss and confusion that he had been enduring before he’d found Cloud having a panic attack.

There were still some things that he couldn’t speak off, and despite having told Cloud that he would when the boy was older, he actually severely doubted that he would _ever_ tell his love what he had endured before death.

He’s drawn from his thoughts at the sounds of loud laughter, and he looks up at the sound with a curious look on his face. The kids are playing some game of keep away or tag, and despite being the youngest, Celeste seems to be winning—if the sight of her with Leslie’s hat could be counted as ‘winning’. It is a bittersweet thing to see his beloved Honeybees again, as they are here but at the same time they’re not, because these are not the same people that he loved once before. Smiling through his twisting thoughts, he moves to sit on the back steps to watch them.

Attaining this property was not something he ever expected to happen, not to him at least. Cloud had voiced similar opinions, however quietly, and so he knew that he wasn’t alone in the feeling of being blessed with this odd reality of living above plate, in a grand mansion and surrounded by the few people he considered family. The opulence and size of the space wasn’t what made it home for him, however; no, what made it home to him was the fact that Cloud was here with him. They still had a long road before them, but they’d made it this far and he was in no rush as he could once again get to know his precious merc.

“Andi!” He’s pulled from his thoughts as the sounds of laughter and yelling of his name pulls his attention back to the kids playing in the yard. Celeste is no longer holding Leslie’s hat, and instead Syd has it as he dances away from the younger and shorter boy, holding the thing high above where Leslie can reach. “ _Andi!_ Make them give it back!”

Chuckling, he stands and walks out to rescue Leslie from his little Honeybees. This wasn’t what he had ever hoped to dream of, never thought to wish for it, but he would never give it up. Not in a million lifetimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: three fics, reorganizing and early spring cleaning of my bedroom and library, and researching for a colleague does shit all for myself and down time to write. So, slow updates ahead... my apologies to everyone in advance.


	27. Red-Eyed Puzzle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Biggs thinks over the tension in the house, and uses a bit of psychology to observe his red-eyed friend. A theory forms as possible answers to his friend’s upset, but when he begins to discuss it with Reno, he’s slightly thrown for a loop at something the Turk reveals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for this taking so very long. I couldn’t get this to work the way that I wanted to. Also, I’ve been requested to do some research for a classmate, so that takes up my days and I’ve been trying to play my games for muse fuel. 
> 
> I hope this reads well. Wish all my lovelies well.

Biggs was quiet as he sat perched up on the banister railing of the fencing on the back section of their wraparound porch, his back was braced back against a column as he sat and fiddled with his earring. He had been doing that a lot lately, sitting and watching from a perch nearby on days that Reno was over and training Andrea. Most of the children would be herded inside, or would be taken down to visit friends in the Sector 5 Undercity, but one would inevitably stay behind and hobble around the house to sit on the sidelines and watch the Turk teach his trainee how to fight and move.

Tifa wasn’t one that seemed to like Reno, or Andrea, for that matter. She was quiet whenever the Turks made an appearance at their home, and despite being apparently willing to talk to or acknowledge Rude, her dark red eyes would follow his redheaded partner with a look mixed with confusion, loss, envy and a bit of hatred. He knew the look intimately, as he had his past lifetime’s memories and that look was one that Tifa would often get when thinking over Shinra and Sephiroth. Tifa was normally a shy and quiet girl, personable and charming, with a mean punch but a caring heart; which led to him not being able to understand why or how she would get like this.

When they had first been introduced to Miss Claudia Strife and Tifa Lockhart last month they had both been injured from the avalanche that had taken out nearly all of Nibelheim, and Tifa had been shaky but all smiles. Then she had been introduced to Andrea and something odd had passed over her features. Since then, she had bounced between happily content to grumpily upset—especially when Cloud had moved back into his rooms with the older dancer—and those odd looks had only picked up when Reno and Rude had returned from a mission and cycled back into training Andrea.

At first, Tifa had seemed happy to see the two Turks, but then Reno had teased Cloud over the motorcycle that Roche had built him, and Tifa’s eyes had flickered to a closed off and suspicious look. Originally, he had chalked it up to just being protective over Cloud—and to a degree he thought that was a stemming point for her odd looks and behavior—but then one day she had witnessed Andrea hug Cloud before playfully spinning him out in a short dance step and then back into Andrea’s chest before dipping the blonde, and her eyes had flared with something filled with pure pain. Since then, she had taken to sitting off to the sidelines whenever Cloud and Andrea trained together, with Reno and Rude nearby as they adjusted Andrea’s obvious street brawling style into something more refined and deadly. And since he knew Tifa’s temper, he had also taken up the habit of watching the training sessions.

Over the last month he had also noticed the way Tifa was kind and genial to everyone else in the house, or that tended to visit. She was fond of him, and while he could often catch her studying his gifts from Reno with thoughtful and curious looks, she would still follow him along as he did chores around the house. She was also kind to Jules, and listened to his every word on healing and stretching so her leg recovered properly as if it was divine gospel. Even Roche got her geniality and kind nature when he would visit, despite the clear look of being lost to who he was, or the curious looks she would give when he and Cloud would race off on their bikes for merc work throughout the city, she was kind to the wild ash blonde. She would tease Leslie, often helping Celeste in her seemingly never ending quest to steal the silver haired boy’s hat, and would dote over the other kids with a second nature of kindness that he remembered her having from his past lifetime of watching her with Marlene and Betty. None of them were witness or subject to her darker looks, only Andrea and Reno. She would get grumpy or agitated with Rude when he was near his partner or while busy training Andrea, but as soon as the bald Turk had a free moment, the small girl would light up and demand his undivided attention.

After all his observations, he now had a two-part theory that he was pretty sure explained the girl’s sour moods. Part One: she had memories of at least one past lifetime; Part Two: she was jealous of Cloud’s relationships with the two men.

“Hey you.” He blinked as he was pulled from his thoughts as a hand suddenly touched his bicep and a familiar set of eyes accented by red tattoos came into his vision range. Reno was perched up on the side of the porch, standing on the slight edge of the porch and holding on to the banister. The redhead was standing pretty close to him, and from the curious head tilt that had his long ponytail falling over one shoulder, Biggs just knew that he hadn’t heard the Turk seeking his attention prior to the invasion of personal space. Not that he was bothered by the popping of his personal bubble—in fact he had come to expect Reno’s tempest nature and inability to respect personal boundaries from all the hours he had taken to spending with the redhead. “You ignoring me, yo?”

He couldn’t resist the chuckle at the slight pout that graced the teen’s lips, Reno was _too sexy_ and _too cute_ for Biggs’ health or sanity, and despite whatever may be believed of the wild Turk, he knew the man had zero clue just how attractive he truly was. At least, clueless to what Biggs found attractive in the other. Watching and getting to know Reno over the past month had left him with a deeper understanding of the magnetism between Cloud and Andrea. Smiling at his friend, he adjusted his stretched out leg to fold it and allow Reno space to jump up and sit next to him. The weather was slowly turning to summer, which mean that Reno would often leave his suit jackets hung up in Biggs’ room within the house and run around in just his button down, or—when he actually began to work up a sweat—he’d just wind up shirtless and Biggs would usually find himself lost as he stared after his slimmer friend. Currently, Reno was once again shirtless and absolutely drenched in sweat. His goggles were hanging loosely around his neck, the lense of one shattered, and his hair was pulled up in a different style of ponytail than usual.

“Biggs? Yo?” He blinked again as a gloved hand waved before his eyes and he reached up to catch the offending hand. Reno was smirking at him, playful and mischievous as his head tilted and his freehand reached past Biggs’ face to his earring. “Did this thing turn defective? Are you paralyzed?”

“Sorry, Reno.” He chuckled then, catching the hand on his earring and gently pulling the hand from the precious accessory; it didn’t matter if Reno had been the one to give him it and put it there, he didn’t like it being messed with. “I was just thinking over some things.”

“Ah. I see, yo. That's why you didn’t hear me when I asked if you wanted to spar?” Reno’s teasing did nothing to calm the burn in his chest, and he pushed the feeling down to focus.

“I was thinking over the current tension in the house.” He hummed then, and nodded slightly towards where Tifa was still sitting in the deck chair and watching Cloud currently sparring with Roche. He had missed the kid arriving, but briefly watching them was like a dèjá vû of their duel in his past life and so he zoned back in on Reno instead of studying the two ex-SOLDIERS. “I have a theory.”

He watched and waited as Reno subtly shifted to look at where he had nodded, and hummed when the redhead’s eyes briefly widened in understanding. “Wanna walk and talk?” Reno asked then, and he nodded. Business or nonsense, he enjoyed when he got the chance to simply walk at the other’s side—it helped that they always ended up in interesting places. 

Reno hadn’t bothered to put his uniform back on before they left the house to walk around the Sector 3 residential neighborhoods, and Biggs was enjoying the sight of all that pale skin on display far too much to care, so he just followed calmly along after his friend.

“So you think she knows, yo?” Reno’s voice cuts through their silence and his thoughts, and he nods in agreement as the redhead turns to watch him as he begins to walk backwards through the streets. It was the middle of the day and so no neighbors were around, but Reno’s voice only carried enough so that his ears were the only ones capable of hearing the softly spoken words. “I think so too.”

“Why is she so upset over seeing Cloud around Andrea?” He questioned; he was actually more interested in what Tifa’s problem with Reno was, but Andrea was the safer topic to inquire after. Reno didn’t always do well with personal questions, and Biggs had found that circular questions usually provided far more information than if he bluntly asked.

“Hm. Probably for the same reason she can’t stand me: I’ve slept with Cloud.” Reno’s deadpan tone made him stumble more than the actual words, and before he could right himself from tripping over air, Reno was within his space and steadying him. Breathing slowly, to calm his shocked and racing heart, Biggs looked up into concerned eyes and placed a hand over the one currently resting on his pec. “You okay, Biggs?”

He _shouldn’t_ be surprised by the fact, as the way Reno had talked about him and Cloud had given him _some_ ideas, but he still was. He was surprised to hear the words delivered in that deadpan and matter-of-fact tone, as if they were discussing the weather, and he was surprised over Cloud having ex-lovers. Cloud wasn’t really one to show affection for others, and even his interactions with Andrea were muted. PDA was not something Cloud indulged in easily, nor was casual touching, and Biggs knew from the past month that Reno was the type to casually touch just about anyone he considered a friend, and the disconnect within his mind was terribly jarring.

“Biggs?” Reno’s voice called to him again, and he finally focused on the wary two-toned eyes before him. There was a bit of fear within them, and he could feel the hand still resting on his chest slightly shaking with nerves the longer he stayed silent. Seeing Reno breakdown like this, seeing through those small cracks in the cocky armor to reveal the softer and more mature depths buried within always caused his breath to catch and would send his heart racing. “You ok?”

“Fine, Reno. You just surprised me.” He blinked as he shook his head again, clearing his thoughts before rearranging their limbs and wrapping his arm around Reno’s slimmer shoulders before resuming their walk. “Now, you’ve slept with Cloud?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS: Dear Shiary, your incessant asking for Andrea’s death may or may not pay off within the next week or two but don’t hold me to a deadline, as it’s a right proper bitch to write.


	28. Loneliness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rufus gets bored and lonely, and Jules refuses to let that stew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG! I just finished playing FF7R! 😱 I am in love and shooketh! (01/25/2021 at 2:00 am)
> 
> Note: Despite the ending scenes concerning two certain someones, I’m sticking to their original shown fates. Perhaps I should’ve finished the game first, but que sera sera. 
> 
> PS: The ending kind of works with how things have reset in this, and that was an absolute surprise to be honest. I have so many thoughts/feelings, some may play out in the fic as we go forward, but I’m not sure which ones.

Rufus was bored. He did not often get bored, but with Tseng busy working, Rude in Wutai with the three SOLDIER 1st Class, and Reno constantly over in Sector 3 at the Boarding House,  _ he was  _ **_bored_ ** _. _ He had even tried calling on Lazard, the SOLDIER Director for some type of company or to find a SOLDIER 3rd Class to play or train with, but that plan had gone bust when the older man had been far too grumpy to listen to Rufus’ requests. And so, he was  _ bored _ and more importantly:  _ lonely.  _ Which was never a good thing for his minders or any of his father’s pawns whenever he reached such a state. He respected his Turks too much to cause trouble in their areas, but Heidegger, Scarlet and Palmer were all up for grabs—Reeve was too nice to prank, and Hojo was too deadly. Hojo was also just  _ creepy _ .

Once again: Rufus was  _ bored _ and  _ lonely. _

Fidgeting in his chair, he scrunched his nose as he watched Dark Nation from his upside down position as the guard dog—puppy—chewed on an old stuffed toy that was once his. He had recently acquired the pet by sneaking into the R&D department before stealing the puppy—it was already  _ his _ , so technically it wasn’t stealing—earlier that morning in a plot to stave off his boredom. It hadn’t worked for long.

Swinging his legs around, and moving to his feet, he hummed and thought over the few people he could call friends that possibly  _ wouldn’t  _ be currently working. There wasn’t a lot to be honest. Pacing, he hummed as he thought over his Turks again. Reno was constantly at the Boarding House, and Rufus honestly suspected it was less for Andrea and more for his crush on the brunette he’d decked out with his own colors. He was a child, an early teenager, but he recognized what such an apparent display could mean to others. Hmm… speaking of Andrea, it had been some time since he had been able to see or visit Jules. Ever since they had moved into the Boarding House, his pretty friend had been too busy being an older sibling figure to all the displaced orphans to visit him and so he hadn’t seen Jules in about two months. He  _ could _ visit his friend, it would mean sneaking out of the building and into Sector 3… but he was pretty sure he could manage.

_ Not _ while wearing his trademark white jacket though.

Smiling, he turned and walked from his living room into his bedroom to search for more inconspicuous clothing. He would change, sneak out with Dark Nation and go spend time with Jules. Tseng wouldn’t be able to get angry with him afterall, since Reno would most likely be there too, and that meant he would be under the watch of a Turk. Semantics could provide such beautiful loopholes at times.

* * *

* * *

Jules blinked as he opened the door of the Boarding House at the sound of insistent but measured knocking, shocked to Rufus Shinra on his doorstep, dressed in a pair of jeans and an oversized black hoodie that must’ve been stolen from Rude’s room or locker before the blonde teen had escaped Shinra Tower. In his arms was a large, odd looking, but weirdly cute puppy, and from the sight of a bag slung over his shoulder and resting against his back, Jules could tell that Rufus had packed a few things in order to stay out of the Tower.

“Hi.” Rufus’ voice drifted through his shock filled mind, and Jules shook himself before smiling and holding the door open wider for the teenager to step inside.

“Hello Rufus.” Jules smiled as the blonde shyly stepped inside the front foyer and set the pup on his feet. “I assume this is you running away?”

“It’s not  _ technically _ running if Reno practically breathes in that brunette he adorned in seafoam green things. Especially since said brunette lives  _ here. _ If I’m under a Turk’s watch, I’m not actually running away.” Rufus’ assertions made him chuckle, especially as there were no real flaws to be found in his logic. Reno and Biggs were hardly ever apart, and Reno was constantly since he was on guard duty watching over the house as well as tasked with teaching Andrea, so Rufus wasn’t wrong in his argument. He was sure that neither Tseng or the boy’s father would appreciate this, but he wasn’t going to push his friend away.

“Let’s find you a spare room to stay over in then.” Jules smiled as Rufus’ lips curled up into a smirk before he lifted the puppy again and they climbed the stairs up to the bedrooms on the fourth and fifth floors. He was sure that someone would be upset over this, but he knew loneliness when he saw it—as he had once seen it within Cloud’s eyes when he’d told the younger man that all those at his gym were family. If anyone had an issue, they would have to go through him first… and his old workout clothes and his boots were  _ not  _ just for show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m terribly sorry that this has taken so long and is so very short, I have been exceedingly busy and so my time available to write has been crippled. My sincerest apologies.


	29. While He Loved You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrea is finally approached by Tifa for a much needed and long over due chat, and he comes to finally and fully understand the girl’s feelings over him being with Cloud. It’s not what he was expecting, but it provides extra insight that he would never have come by otherwise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took forever to write! It is finally here, and things are finally clear concerning Tifa’s odd behavior around Cloud and the others. It feels so good to finally get this out and to end this two lifetime arc. I hope you all enjoy this. 
> 
> Note: just in case it isn’t clear, the italics within the cut scene brackets is a flashback of Tifa’s. I thought it worked better to fully show the night she’s discussing.

Andrea hummed as he watched the younger kids play in the backyard, carefree and safe as they ran from one side of the yard to the other, happily racing Rufus and Roche as Rufus’ puppy had finally been exhausted from playing all morning and was currently asleep on the porch next to Cloud. Roche and Rufus moved quickly, rushing and pushing each other to go faster and faster as the kids tried to spur them on and keep up. It was highly amusing to watch, as each of the little bees eventually gave up and moved to sit on the back porch steps with Cloud and the puppy, Dark Nation. Jules stood out in the yard with the two racing blondes, stationed up on the seat of the picnic table as he called out encouragement or instructions to the two. Whenever anyone within the house would train or play—mostly when Reno, Rude or Biggs weren’t nearby to supervise—Jules would standby watching over the proceedings with all his physical training knowledge and prowess to ensure no one got hurt. And whatever Jules’ said went. It had been a rule for the gym for as long as Andrea could remember, and one that he’d only broken twice in his life; once within Jules’ actual precious gym, and the second in their makeshift workout room after their exodus from Midgar.

It hadn’t mattered to Jules’ back then, if Andrea was stressed and worried, or if he was falling apart from his fears, his younger brother had _still_ chastised him for pushing himself far beyond what was healthy or safe. The second time truly hadn’t been wise as he’d begun to grow sick from Geostigma, and Jules had been right both times in his warnings that Andrea would hurt himself, but the first incident had been far more unsettling for them both as Andrea had never acted in such a way before that night and it had both surprised and caused fear in equal measures within his brother’s mind and soul. Jules saw so much of a person’s true soul and nature when he would watch them work out, and to a similar degree, Andrea could do the same when he watched someone dance—or on the rare occasion, _danced_ with someone.

“Andrea?” He hummed as the soft calling of his name pulled him from his thoughts, and he turned to search for the source. Slightly behind him stood Tifa, and from the way she was shifting, he could only imagine that she had finally found her voice so they could discuss whatever had been going through her mind ever since she had first moved into the house with them. “Can I talk with you? Privately.”

“Of course.” He hummed in reply as the girl turned and began to walk back into the house, she still had a slight limp to her step, and so he offered her his arm as he followed after her.

The doctors that Tseng had found for them to treat both Tifa and Miss Strife had assured them that the two would heal perfectly, and were well on their way to being able to heal their last lingering injuries with the use of a Cure materia, but Tifa had refused to use it. She had cited that it felt as if she was cheating something, though Andrea suspected the girl actually didn’t want to be the attention of any of their materia using friends.

They walked in silence as Andrea followed the girl to one of the smaller living rooms, and after watching her sit in a chair and gingerly lift her leg onto a footrest, he stood a bit away from her in the center of the room. They had never been close, with only a few handfuls of interactions in Andrea’s past two lifetimes, and so he didn’t truly know what to expect from her or what this conversation would entail. With that lack of knowledge, he resolved to stay quiet and wait for Tifa to say what has been on her mind for the better part of three, nearly _four_ , months.

“I remember you.” Tifa’s voice was soft as she slowly raised her head and her dark red eyes met his own green-gray ones. “I remember following Cloud, clinging to his arm while being covered in dust and dirt from the Sector 7 Plate dropping, as he guided us through the small park outside of Wall Market and into the bustling main stretch of the entrance street to the sector. I was a mess, mentally and emotionally, but Cloud let me keep a death grip on his wrist and hand as we ducked away from a few groups of patrolling Shinra infantrymen.”

He could remember the scene she was describing vividly, as if it had happened yesterday and not two lifetimes ago, and he could see Cloud’s bright eyes catching sight of him before shifting in direction and walking towards Andrea. It had been his first glimpse of Tifa, and he could still remember the bittersweet feeling that had bubbled up within his chest at the sight of her clinging so tightly but listlessly to the merc.

“I remember the way Cloud suddenly relaxed as he scanned through the crowd, and I followed after him as he somehow was able to catch sight of you in that dark and crowded street. I don’t know if it was the mako and the SOLDIER enhancements or something else that allowed him to see you, as I hadn’t and _wouldn’t have_ due to your tanned skin and that all black ensemble you were wearing, but suddenly Cloud’s stress eased from his body and we were standing in front of you. With the grip I had on Cloud’s wrist, I was able to feel his blood pressure and the tension in his frame slow, as if with just a few words he had relaxed. Cloud _doesn’t_ relax. I’ve never once seen him relax.” Tifa’s eyes met his own once more as she talked, and he felt himself swallow and fidget under the revelations caused from the new information. “Not until that night.”

“I have three lifetimes before me, Andrea, and I’ve always loved Cloud in each. I had no memories of it all until my third lifetime, but I do now and I _still_ do not understand what went wrong. I was with Cloud once, _twice_ … but I wonder if he was ever truly mine in the second lifetime. I have spent my time here watching you with him, thinking over my limited interactions with you from the first lifetime that you existed to our most recent and abruptly ended one. It isn’t much to work with. I only saw you from a distance last time, as I was deeply unsure and wary over your relationship with Cloud… I’m sure you can understand my worry? He was a _teenager_ , and apparently he _lived in your room_. You were grown still. And rumors of your previous _job_ circulated through the gossips of the Undercity like absolute wildfire.” Tifa sighed then, taking a deep breath before continuing, and he finally moved to sit on a nearby couch since this talk seemed to be many years in the making and therefore probably would not be over quickly. As he settled into his habitual right side lean, with his head slightly tilted and resting against his fist, Tifa took another breath and continued in her tale. “I spent two years with him, twice over, by his side and in his bed. He drifted from me though, and I understood later why he had, after we talked over Advent Day and he finally told me that he had been dying of Geostigma. I had thought with the disease cured that he would return to me, but he didn’t. In our—or rather _my_ —first lifetime, he somehow ended up messing around with Reno after Advent Day. I didn’t ever hear it _from_ Cloud.”

“I don’t know how long he was with Reno, and I honestly don’t care to know. I was a bit bitter over it, and to a degree I still am, but only because he never could talk to me about it. Always just avoided me. Saying it was his thing and not to put too much thought into it. Cloud has that habit too, of not talking much. The deeper or more serious it is, the less he says.” He watched as Tifa played with her hair, a few loose strands from her long ponytail moving to frame her face and somehow serving to accentuate the sadness within her eyes. He could see more of where her dislike for him and Reno came from now, see the unintended pain that his beloved merc had caused without meaning to. Before he could open his mouth, however, Tifa began speaking again.

“Then, in my second lifetime, suddenly there was _you._ I always ended up competing with Aerith and Jessie for his affections, but we never really got that much of a real reaction from him. He cared for us, still does I’m sure, and he is _so_ protective of those he cares for. I don’t doubt that, I never have… _with_ or _without_ memories of other lifetimes. It’s just…” Tifa faltered then, and he watched as she bit her lip and slightly glared over at him. “It’s like you appeared and we were suddenly in a new competition that we had no defense against, or a chance of possibly winning. You were— _are_ —stunningly beautiful and handsome. When I met you and Jules in the gym after the plate fell, I welcomed the distraction of competing with you. I enjoyed the praise over my physique, as I did work hard to maintain it and so very few ever commented on it, let alone applaud me for it. A part of me knew that it wasn’t really a workout challenge though, that it was in all reality, two people sizing each other up in order to determine if they had a chance or ability to catch and keep one person’s eye on them: and that was Cloud’s.”

“I forgot that feeling, the way Cloud shifted towards you that night and relaxed within my grip at the low rumble of your voice as you exchanged your greetings, and I forgot the way I felt when I walked into the gym a few steps behind Cloud to find him once again standing in front of you. He may have looked tense, with the way his arms were crossed, but he was actually very much at ease and I tried to ignore the way he tilted towards you, as I didn’t understand the possible reasons as to _why._ I tried to ignore the way he always seemed to gravitate towards you, with his eyes wide and clear as they took in every single inch of you as you turned and walked away from us and out of the gym.” Tifa shifted then, shaking her head and causing her hair to fall around her shoulders more as a soft sniffling noise began to fill the room in place of her soft voice.

Blinking, he moved and grabbed a box of tissues before moving to sit closer to the girl. He clearly remembered their challenge, as it was as deeply burned into his mind as it was within Tifa’s, and he was slowly beginning to understand the true depth of her pain. She’d been in love with Cloud for years in each lifetime, and she had been able to see his distant care for others, as well as the open affections of two other women for him, but _he_ had blindsided her. He had appeared out of nowhere and had come with _zero_ warning to signal to the girl that her affections were being stolen away from her by a new and unknown variable. He felt bad for her, for feeling the need to compete for the affections of someone that couldn’t give her any in return, and the way that he truly had done nothing to actively make that sensation worse but still had all the same. The worst part of witnessing the girl’s pain, however, stemmed from a sudden rush of guilt at how badly he had fought his feelings for Cloud. He used to chastise himself over the way his cheeks would heat up if he thought over the blonde, and he would grow angry with himself whenever his hormones spiked up at the thought of the slimmer man being held securely in his arms as Andrea dipped the blonde, taciturn merc.

“I didn’t have the chance to dwell on it though, as Aerith was in need of rescue and things… _happened_ , as we escaped from Midgar. It wasn’t on my mind for months afterwards until one night when we were camping and going through our supplies, searching for treasure to sell for new gear and to stock up on fuel and food, when something bright and _gold_ caught my eye from the firelight. Cloud was sitting between Aerith and I, and he’d pulled out this small wrapped bundle that he looked shocked to find in his things. When the shine caught my eye, it also caught Aerith’s and we turned in tandem out of curiosity. There, in Cloud’s shaking hands rested two absolutely _beautiful_ , gold and slim diamond shaped earrings.”

* * *

 _“What’re those?” Tifa questioned as she shifted slightly closer towards Cloud to get a good look at the gold earrings, they were absolutely gorgeous and while they looked familiar, she couldn’t_ **_quite_ ** _place where she’d seen them before._

_“Oh! Aren’t those Andrea’s?!” Aerith’s voice was soft despite her exclamation as she leaned to look at them from Cloud’s left. Blinking, Tifa studied the earrings again as it clicked into place as she remembered seeing these very earrings adorning Cloud’s ears as he had been dolled up in that beautiful lilac colored dress. She had completely forgotten all about that escapade involving Don Corneo, and from the startled look on Cloud’s face, she could only guess that he had as well._

_“... Yeah.” Cloud’s voice finally drifted out from his body, and she shared a concerned frown with Aerith as they shifted back to sit again. They had been leaning over Cloud in order to look at his forgotten prize, but with his softly spoken tone, they both needed no prodding to remember that Cloud preferred his personal space. “I forgot I had these. I meant to return them before leaving, but after helping Leslie, I forgot.”_

_“I’m sure when we return to Midgar that you can go visit Andrea and return them to him then. We’ll just have to keep them safe for now.” Aerith gently reasoned, and they shared a concerned look when Cloud didn’t move or respond in any way to her words._

_Tilting her head curiously, Tifa shifted up onto her hands and knees as she and Aerith shuffled slightly in order to better look at Cloud’s face. The blonde was quiet and still, almost like a statue and only the soft rise and fall of his chest told her that he was still breathing. She was just about to reach out and touch him when he finally let out a raspy and shaky breath before he lifted his free hand to gently run his fingertips over the surface of the earrings. She wasn’t one to wear a lot of jewelry, and her teardrop pearl earrings had actually once belonged to her mother so she wasn’t sure, but the gold of the earrings definitely looked to be_ **_real_ ** _and not just plated or painted on._

_“Don’t ever be afraid.” Cloud’s voice was a gentle whisper, barely audible despite them sitting so close to him, and she tilted her head in confusion as she sat back on her heels to watch her lifelong friend. Cloud seemed to be lost in his thoughts, and while she didn’t want to startle him out of it, she was worried over him. Over the stillness and the deeper than normal quiet, but somehow more relaxed, state he had fallen into upon finding the jewelry. “Perfection, huh?”_

_They both startled back as Cloud suddenly moved, and in one graceful motion he was up and carefully wrapping the earrings back up in the lilac cloth before stowing them back away as he picked up his sword and walked to his Hardy-Daytona motorcycle._

_“Cloud?!” She called startled as she and Aerith rushed to stand and follow after him worriedly. “Where are you going?”_

_“I’ll be back, I’ve just got an errand to run.” Cloud replied and they both stepped back as he turned on the motorcycle before turning it eastward and driving off._

* * *

“He came back two days later with a small black and gold jewelry box, like the ones you get from a store when you first buy new jewelry, to keep the earrings safe. Neither Aerith or I ever really understood what happened that night, but ever afterwards, if Cloud grew too stressed we would see him slip the box from a pocket and unwrap the lilac fabric from those gold earrings and gently trace his fingertips over the smooth metal while saying, ‘Don’t ever be afraid’. It became a mantra of sorts for him, or at least that’s what I understood of it then.” Tifa’s voice drifted off then, and Andrea sat back in his chair in shocked silence. _Yes_ , Cloud had told him that he had kept Andrea’s earrings, but he hadn’t told him exactly how or that he had also relied on Andrea’s softly spoken words to keep him going.

“After Meteorfall, Cloud and I tried the dating thing and it was good for awhile. We rebuilt my bar, Seventh Heaven, in Edge and Cloud worked on building this custom motorcycle. It’s absolutely gorgeous, all black and gold—I never noticed the color scheme really. I don’t know if he went looking for you, but now I’m sure the delivery service was started in order to do just that. Eventually something would be sent to or from Andrea Rhodea, right? I had long since forgotten the uneasy feelings you instilled within my heart by then, and I would’ve been happy to see you, Jules or Leslie again.” Tifa sighed then, and adjusted her ankle as she moved and shifted in her seat to curl up a little within the chair. “We never did though, obviously. I’m sure if we had heard talk of you that Cloud would’ve run off to chase after you, and my wake up call over Cloud’s nature and our relationship would’ve come from seeing _you_ sitting on the back of Cloud’s bike instead of Reno.”

 _Cloud’s nature_. Andrea blinked and swallowed as he thought over the gently spoken words; he _had_ been fearing the girl’s dislike of him stemmed from a distaste for his predilections, but hearing the softness and care in her words, he now knew better. Tifa was just hurt and sore from three lifetimes of loving unrequitedly. And to think he’d once been jealous of this girl while resolutely trying to deny his feelings for Cloud.

“I just want to know: do you love him?” Tifa’s eyes lifted from the armrest and once again met his, staring deeply into them as if searching for unspoken answers from the very depths of his soul.

“Yes.” He could admit it now, quietly to himself as well as aloud, to Cloud and to this girl that had unfairly suffered for so very long. Shifting, he moved from his seat and gently adjusted her bad ankle so he could sit atop her footrest in order to be nearer to her. “I love Cloud with all of my heart and soul. I’m so in love with him that when given the choice on my deathbed from Geostigma in my first lifetime, to be with him once more in _any_ brief capacity, I chose it. Without hesitation I chose to repeat my life and live within the prison of Wall Market if only to see Cloud again. I’m so terribly sorry that you were hurt, I didn’t mean to be in the way of your happiness, I didn’t even know that I _was_. Tifa, I can’t change how I feel about him, not after getting to know him even the little bit more from last lifetime and to now. I’m sorry if we’ve hurt you—if we _continue_ to hurt you.”

They stared at each other for several minutes after his sincere and earnest proclamation, and Andrea found himself waiting with baited breath as the younger girl’s red eyes once more bore into his own green-gray eyes as if she was assessing his soul. He didn’t know what she found within his gaze, but when she finally nodded and shifted in her seat to move and hug him, he sighed out with relief and carefully adjusted the once more crying girl to hold her within his arms and comfort her the best he could. There was no remedy for a broken heart, but frazzled nerves could be soothed by long hugs and comforting motions like back rubs and gentle fingers brushing through hair.

Lifting her to the couch was easy, and the alarmed squeak she made at the action was cute, as he stretched out on the couch and held her to his side with her head resting on his chest in much the same way he would with Jules. He probably wasn’t the best person to offer comfort over this pain, but he wasn’t going to leave her like he didn’t care about her, or to create the sensation within her heart that he wanted to push her off onto someone else, and so he stayed put.

He would have to insist on her speaking to Cloud soon, but for now, he just let her be as her emotionally wracked body fell asleep tucked into his side with one of her hands gripping tightly at his shirt as he ran a hand soothingly through her long hair. He would make sure they spoke soon, to clear the air between them if nothing else, but right now he was serving as a pillow and rest was far more important for the girl’s health and mental state. He could be a mediator later once she woke up again.

Sighing, Andrea ran a hand through his dark curls and relaxed into the couch. It felt better, to know the cause of the tension, but he also felt wretched and guilty over ever causing the pain. No matter how unknowingly it had been, it still _happened._ He couldn’t undo it, and to be entirely honest, he wouldn’t if he could. He was far too in love with Cloud to give him up. As he had told Tifa, he had been on his deathbed suffering from Geostigma, and had chosen to relive his entire existence for the sheer _chance_ of seeing Cloud once more. He would always choose Cloud, and follow after him, no matter what life had in store for any of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was so much fun writing Tifa’s POV of these moments within Cloud and Andrea’s little not really there but still tangible romance. I’m so happy this is finally revealed.


	30. Complicated Stories...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrea tries to relieve his pent up stress in his favorite rehearsal room within the Boarding House, but his solitude is interrupted and his state of mind is not exactly prepared for the conversation that follows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW/TW: There is a bit of an emotional release/bleeding of stress and worry in this chapter that could be read as a soft/mild panic attack. Please be careful and be safe if this would do harm to you.
> 
> CW: Andrea’s foul/vulgar and blunt language makes a reappearance! So, be mindful of thought processes and language usage that we haven’t seen since “Looking For You”.

Andrea sighed as he stood back and away from the duo sitting out on the back porch; Cloud had found Tifa about an hour earlier and they had been talking ever since. He didn’t know exactly what they were discussing, but considering his own conversation with the girl earlier that morning, he had a decent idea of possible candidates. Still, knowing those possibilities did nothing to ease his stress over this particular conversation. He wanted it to go well, for these two childhood friends that had lived through every single lifetime together, to repair that bond between them that had somehow begun to fray and unravel when he had entered the equation. It was never intentional, it had apparently just _happened._

Sighing, he shook his head and turned from the back door and back down the hall towards the stairs. He needed to think, or rather, to _not_ think. He needed to dance, and preferably on a proper stage, but the rehearsal rooms that had been designed within the house would do well enough. He truly wanted to run, to scream or… _fuck._ Oh by Gaia what he wouldn’t do for a good old fashioned roll in a luxurious set of silk and high quality cotton sheets, or considering his level of stress: satin. That too smooth but slightly scratchy pull against his overheated skin and the severe pleasure that could arise from eliciting a satin burn against his skin or, even _better:_ to elicit a bit of beard burn against the tender silk of a human at his _gentle mercy._

Ever since waking up, he had tried to cut off his thoughts, to ignore the way his teenage hormones sought to wreak havoc on his body and test his every shred of patience. What he honestly wouldn’t give for a quick fuck to destress… but… he couldn’t do that now, and he wouldn’t. Shaking his head at himself, and to dispel his wayward thoughts, Andrea stepped into the familiar four walls of his rehearsal space. He could at least still do _this_.

  
“You’re very talented, Andrea.” The words and voice startled him as he came down from a spin, and he blinked as he fought to relax his breathing to focus on the intruder to his space. _Everyone_ in the house knew better than to open those doors and disturb him while he was working, it didn’t matter the reason: he was _never_ to be bothered.

Focusing past the blood pounding in his ears, he forced out a calming breath and turned his gaze from the reflection in the mirror to the actual person that had disturbed his solitude. It took two lifetimes of training to hold his tongue and _not_ snap at the woman that stood before him. Which was terribly well and good, considering it was Miss Claudia Strife.

“Hello Miss Strife.” He kept his tone level, his expression flat but warm and welcoming, skills he had not actively practiced in this lifetime but they came rushing back to him easily enough. He was grateful for it, considering his dancing had been a _touch_ risqué. Nothing openly or overtly sexual, but still blatant enough that someone who knew the intimacies of human nature would be able to tell just _where_ his mind had traveled as he danced. He was not in the head space to speak to the older woman right now, but he couldn’t exactly just walk away from her either. Again, he found himself missing the Inn. “Was there something you needed?”

“Simply to speak to you. I’m sorry for intruding, by the way—your little Bees told me I really shouldn’t, but I thought we could talk while Cloud was out and Tifa seems calm.” He simply nodded at the woman’s words. He now had a very good idea of just what this conversation was going to be over, but knowing did nothing to ease his nerves or calm his temper. He hated the moments when his adult mind was lost beneath the trappings of his teenage body; especially as it simply served as yet _another_ reminder that he couldn’t do what he truly wanted in order to release his stress and anxieties.

“It is alright.” Andrea shook his head and pulled on his best showman’s smile. “What is it I can help you with Miss Strife?”

“Do not try and sell false platitudes to me, for one.” Miss Strife stepped slowly, but confidently into the room and he fought back the sudden sensation to either bow his head in an act of contrition, or to take a wary step backwards in order to put space between them again. “You are an interesting individual, Andrea.”

He fought back a frown, another twitch as he shifted his weight and followed the woman’s path further into the room. He wasn’t afraid, per se, but he was deeply unmoored.

“I’ve been listening, and these walls speak in secrets that I do not think you were aware of. A mother _knows_ , after all. When your children begin to notice others; most often you worry over your daughters dating someone’s son, or your sons dating someone else’s daughter. I never once thought to look past that..” Andrea swallowed as he felt his jaw clenching. But Miss Strife simply ignored the tick in his jaw and continued speaking. “I suppose I always thought Cloud would fawn over Tifa forever, but I had thought he would grow out of it. He honestly was too young, he still is too young, to know just what or who he wants and yet…”

“And yet?” He kept his voice steady, and tried to steel his racing heart. This was not a conversation that he thought he would be having, he’d honestly thought Cloud would be discussing this. He wasn’t used to answering to others, especially authority figures—he had always held a rebellious streak that had even flared recently concerning his Turk training. But this figure could cut him off from Cloud, and since they were technically children, Andrea would _lose_ this fight.

“I’ve seen you with him, and I don’t understand it.” Miss Strife spoke softly, and he blinked as he registered how close she was standing to him. She wasn’t much taller than him, and while he was not actually short or small, the older woman seemed to tower over him. “I do not understand it, what is between you and my son…” He blinked when a soft but slightly calloused hand cupped his cheek, and he allowed her to guide his face to look at her. “But I accept it. Whatever _it_ is.”

Andrea blinked as he stared at the woman before him in shock. He hadn’t been expecting this conversation to happen this morning, he most certainly had not been expecting what she had just said to have even _been_ said, and he suddenly found himself in a collapsed heap on the floor as his knees gave out on him. It was a rush through his ears, as his heart pounded against his rib cage and her words echoed around in his head.

“Oh, sweetie.” Miss Strife’s voice was softer, and closer to him as she knelt beside him and he faintly felt her looking him over. He hadn’t exactly _eased_ his way to the hardwood floor, after all. He gasped as a shocked gasping noise escaped his throat and he tried to ignore the knowledge that he was crying. Miss Strife’s presence was still at his side, however, and he fought back a whimper when one soothing hand brushed through his hair. “You are good for him, and I can’t in good conscience argue against that. However…”

“I won’t touch him until he’s of age. It’s… it’s complicated but… I just…” He rushed to explain, to guarantee that he wasn’t interested in Cloud being so terribly young, but he couldn’t get all the words out in order to say all he wanted to. He didn’t know where to begin to explain, and the soothing hand detangling his sweat drenched curls was greatly distracting him. Very few people ever were allowed to touch his hair, but he couldn’t find his voice to protest this.

“I’m sure it is. All good stories _are_ complicated, after all.” Miss Strife hummed, and he sighed more as his breathing began to finally level out. “Besides, what _isn’t_ complicated for the _Star_ of the _Honeybee Inn_? Hmm?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Andrea, dealing with teenage hormones. 
> 
> .... a complication indeed.


	31. Wavering Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’s at his breaking point, if he doesn’t find a solution to this, he’d forever be stuck in the shadows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW/TW: Heavy discussion of sex work, Don Corneo and the brothel side of Andrea’s life. Pre-game (Remake); beware Andrea’s vulgar and blunt language again. 
> 
> This is a series of flashbacks; the occult ‘lore’ discussed within is a theory of my own, though I’m not really going to claim it as solely mine. It’s just a hc I’ve held for years. Also, there may be a bit of ‘soul mates’ hinted at if you squint.
> 
> Also: Andi’s hair color has to involve a shout out to the Rhife discord lovelies that helped me figure out a color other than ‘not brown but not black either’. I adore you all and thank you very very much for your help.

_Andrea was having a day. It had begun easily and simply enough, waking up in the grand brothel room with a few aches and pains but nothing that would keep him from taking the stage that night. He was used to the double shifts, of dancing and training, honing his body to physical perfection and then turning around and laying flat out on his back or propped up on his hands and knees as he took his more ‘acceptable’ place of being a whore._

_He still questioned how exactly he’d fallen into this trap, but he couldn’t escape it now, at least not without working upwards. Sam_ **_had_ ** _tried to tell him not to do this, to avoid catching the Don's attention, but he still had and despite not particularly liking the price he had to pay: it put food on the table and kept Jules safe. Did he often see his little brother? No. But Sam kept him safe, and the debt to the chocobo owner was one not required to be paid on his knees. All that Sam ever wanted was a set of front row tickets to every show._

_Sam was, in all honesty, the unofficial ‘dad’ of Wall Market. Not that the man was that much older than him. Still, he acted like it._

_Huffing, Andrea shook his head to dislodge his wayward thoughts as he stared at the missive in his hand informing him that his normal stage attire had been_ **_commandeered_ ** _by the Don, with the suggestion to either ‘find a replacement’ or to dance in lingerie or, better yet:_ **_bare_** _._

 _It was just another machination in an effort to keep Andrea off the stage where he would be within the public’s eye and instead locked away within the brothel. Corneo insisted that Andrea’s beauty and body was best showcased with his mouth open and on his knees, but Andrea absolutely_ **_refused_ ** _to stay on the bottom of the pecking order and hierarchy. Madame M was only a few years older than him and was one of the Trio alongside Sam, and if Andrea wanted that coveted position that would grant him so much more freedom—without killing the current seat; who also happened to be his Brothel Mother—he would_ **_need_ ** _to be on that stage tonight._

 _But the Don must have known, or assumed his reasons for doing the headliner dance tonight, because this_ **_trick_ ** _was going to ruin that. He would be trapped within the brothel and he would_ **_never_ ** _see Jules again; whether or not his little brother lived with Sam. If Andrea didn’t fix this_ **_before tonight_** _, he would end up wasting away from being forever fucked by mindless and vapid Shinra idiots._

_He had time still, and there were other seamstresses and tailors within the city of Midgar, he could surely find something._

_Andrea wanted to cry, he was so frustrated. He had been at this for three hours, and he had been awake since sunrise. He was about to break apart. Sighing, he stretched his long legs across the small alleyway as he sat with his back against the side of a building. Yet another shop that was willing to indulge in the extravagances of Wall Market, but refused to acknowledge when one came to them for business._

_“You know that crying about it never solves anything?” He blinked open his eyes as the soft voice filtered through his haze. A few steps away from him stood a blonde woman, with fair features and deep sky blue eyes._

_“Nothing solves my problem. So what is the point?” He snapped at the woman, only to flinch and wince a moment later at the way she raised one pale eyebrow. His own mother used to give him the same look, and experiencing it now stung at his tattered soul. “I’m trapped. And no one is willing to help me. I should expect it, I’m from Wall Market, but… I thought.”_

_“Thought they would care?” He nodded faintly and shifted as the woman knelt beside him. “What are you trapped in?”_

_“I… I need to debut on stage tonight, or I stay in the brothel. I have to prove I’ll make more money if I’m centerstage than if I’m paid for on the hour.” His voice was bitter, he couldn’t help it, couldn’t fight the rising tide of his temper._

_“What happened to stop you?” He frowned as he looked up at the woman and tilted his head, finally registering he didn’t truly recognize her accent and a bit surprised she’d even care._

_“My… clothing for tonight was taken. I have… until 11pm to be on stage in something I acquired of my own, lingerie… or nothing.” He shook his head as he once again repeated the words. He_ **_hated_ ** _this. Hated his own stupidity as a fifteen year old that thought he was smart enough to out plot a kingpin._

_“Well, it seems you are in luck.” He blinked as the woman stood and held out a hand to him. “I’m a seamstress and I’m all too familiar with time crunches. My employer is a finicky priss. I’m Claudia.”_

_“Andrea Rhodea.” He introduced himself almost out of shock as he took the proffered hand and stood up to follow the chattering woman._

* * *

_“I’m not sure about this, Claudia.” Andrea turned as he looked at himself in the full-length mirror. He was in a matching pair of black pants and a black open-chested peasant top. There were slight slits at the cuff of the pant legs, and his sleeves were only three-quarter sleeves. They provided a good base but something felt lacking._

_“I’m thinking, Andrea.” Claudia huffed as she moved from him and back to her fabrics. He sighed as he fidgeted again. He wasn’t sure about the all black color._

_“Andi.” Andrea shook his head as the soft voice of Claudia’s son pulled him from his thoughts and he turned to kneel down to the kid’s level. Despite children not normally liking him, Claudia’s son seemed to be an exception, and had actually spent the last several hours ‘helping’. It was cute and sweet. “This?”_

_“Hm? Whatcha got there?” He hummed curiously as he took the large section of material from the toddler, laughing as the little one was suddenly lost under all the fabric. “You ok under there?”_

_“Mmhm.” He chuckled at the response, amused when no further movement came from under the material, and Andrea finally took in the color. It was a rich and vibrant gold that glittered but without actual glitter. Humming, he stood and gently stepped around his shadow, who quickly was up and following after him as he took the material to Claudia._

_“What about this?”_

_Andrea hummed as he looked over his finished outfit. Claudia was putting everything up, and writing down his measurements for him to keep, while he stood in front of the mirror and admired her beautiful work. It was black and gold, with wing detailing down the pant legs and over his chest, perfectly framing the straps that showed hints of his pecs. The look still seemed slightly_ **_off_** _, but he couldn’t quite pinpoint what._

_“Andi.” He chuckled and hummed as he turned to find Cloud once again in the doorway watching him. After the success with finding the gold fabric, Andrea had made sure to commit the name to memory. Kneeling down again, he smiled and waited as Cloud walked to him and reached up before lightly tugging on one of Andrea’s long black cherry curls. “No.”_

_“You want me to cut my hair?” Andrea shifted, shocked at the very idea, but he moved to sit on his knees and listen to this oddly observant little one._

_“Free. Grow later.” Andrea hummed as he smiled and lifted the boy up into his arms. Gently but tightly hugging the wise beyond his age toddler. His mother used to say that children still held touches of Lifestream, but he’d never really listened to her occult stuff until now. “Hi.”_

_“Hi, Cloud.” He chuckled as he smiled at the toddler clinging to his arm._

_“Andi?” He hummed as he began to walk them back to Claudia. He had to be leaving soon, if he wanted this all to have been for something. “Don’t be ‘fraid.”_

_“Afraid? Afraid of what?” He questioned as he stopped walking to give Cloud his undivided attention._

_“What yer lookin’ for.” Cloud’s eyes met his own and he frowned over the thought of more than one of his mother’s occult superstitions holding real weight._

_“I won’t.” Andrea smiled as he hugged the boy close again, gasping a little as he felt tears hit the skin of his neck and Cloud held him as tightly as his arms could manage. “Don’t ever be afraid, Cloud.”_

_“I try.” Cloud giggled then, and he smiled as the toddler pulled away to smile shyly up at him. “You look like a honeybee, Andi.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cloud is 2, Andrea is 19; that has them as being set with 17 years difference in the time that the events of Remake are taking place. 
> 
> Cloud is the cutest little toddler ever; I’m picturing him with even messier spikes and I just can’t resist wanting to snuggle him.


	32. ... Are the Best Tales to Tell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrea sits at his vanity, a mess as his mind replays long lost memories; but he isn’t left to stew in them for too long, as Cloud has perfected the art of pulling Andrea from his own mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried very hard to not post this just yet in order to wait for a few people to catch up, but I can’t. This is too cute to sit on and I must release it to the wild. 
> 
> Also: Thank you so much to Nozomi_Higurashi for helping me get this working and for your feedback check. I wasn’t sure I should have the end, but you saw exactly what I was trying to express and I’m eternally grateful.

_“The last time I ever saw you, you were nineteen years old, and making your stage debut. I had been in Midgar by sheer chance with Tifa’s parents, before her mother died. I was left to my own devices, Cloud was two at the time.”_

Andrea sat at his vanity, watching his reflection as he thought over Miss Strife’s words and the long buried memories that had dredged up from the darkest depths of his mind. He’d made himself forget those early years, had skimmed over those days in his telling it to Cloud. He doubted the blonde knew, either from having been so very young, or from the way his memories had been lost and still weren’t fully comprehensible or even in order.

He was crying again, thinking over the night that he’d debuted as a dancer to the shock of all and had ascended to the throne swiftly afterwards. It wasn’t well known, but the old Brothel Mother hadn’t actually ‘retired’ out of anger, Sam had in fact gotten rid of the woman. Not that even he had known at the time it happened, Sam and Madame M had always done their utmost to keep some parts of his soul clean and murder had been the one area they had been able to keep from blackening his soul for the longest.

He was at an utter loss of how he could’ve suppressed the root of his freedom and the source of his wonderful aesthetic or the way he had rebranded the brothel into his beloved Honeybee Inn.

_“You look like a honeybee, Andi.”_

The soft echo and giggle echoed in his mind again and he couldn’t help the soft gasping chuckle that escaped his throat. It was near prophetic in the way the toddler had formed so much, but he had a killer intuition and so Andrea had taken the child’s words to heart as his good luck charm. 

He must’ve gotten lost in his thoughts again, for he suddenly jolted into consciousness when two slightly muscled arms wrapped around his shoulders and his eyes refocused on his mirror to see the twelve year old version of Cloud in the _here and_ **_now_** _._ Those eyes were a swirling sky and sparkling blue, without the mako, and yet just as captivating as they had been upon being reunited with them on his stage.

Chuckling softly, he sighed as he relaxed into the warm embrace and hummed at the sudden registering of a headache growing behind his eyes from all the crying he’d done in the day. His eyes caught on Cloud’s in the mirror again, and he smiled at that perpetual pout, about to open his mouth and _something_ when the reflection of Cloud suddenly closed his eyes and turned his head towards Andrea before placing a soft and sweet kiss to his cheek.

Gasping at the contact, Andrea hummed contentedly and relaxed into Cloud’s comforting embrace. He terribly wished that he could turn in the blonde’s arms to return the affection, but he knew Cloud was still far too young for exactly how Andrea burned to kiss him. Instead of moving in the younger’s arms, and tempting his mind to break under his body’s still raging hormones, Andrea simply placed his hands over Cloud’s and hummed as he leant slightly into the slim frame at his back.

Leaning slightly sideways, and back enough to look at Cloud without his eyes crossing, he opened his mouth to say hello but Cloud beat him to it and he felt himself just _melt._

“Hi.” Cloud smiled shyly at him as he leant a bit into Andrea’s side, and he couldn’t help but to laugh at the way the boy so sweetly and unknowingly echoed Andrea’s memories.

“Hi, Cloud.” He was still a bit of an emotional mess, but as Cloud turned him slightly and leant down to nuzzle him, he found he was perfectly fine with that. He could be a mess sometimes, and Cloud would still stand at his side, he didn’t have to be perfect or a showman. He hummed contentedly as Cloud nuzzled him again, slightly guiding his head up before a hand cupped his cheek and soft lips pressed to his in a sweet and barely there peck. The broken whimper he let out at the touch was harsh to his own ears, but Cloud kept softly kissing him and his mind focused on that in favor over the way his stress seemed to be melting away from him. The kisses were soft, gentle and innocent, but they were more than enough to curb the restless and pent up feeling that had been consuming him all day.

When Cloud finally broke away, he didn’t go far and instead shifted Andrea to sit next to him on his bench before picking up a jar of Andrea’s eyeshadow. “Want to doll me up again? Distract yourself from whatever’s haunting you?”

“Oh _honey,_ it will be my _pleasure.”_

**Author's Note:**

> I do have this preset within a series, but there is no standing plan for parts. I also do not know what pairings will manifest, as I have a few different ones that I enjoy writing and shipping, so that will possibly change as we go. 
> 
> Love you all, and I hope everyone stays, and that new people join me on this journey. 
> 
> —
> 
> P.S.: If you like what I do and would like to support me, I have a ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/nyxdoll
> 
> ~ Nyx 💋

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Not all who remember are allies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28855167) by [Shiary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiary/pseuds/Shiary)




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